
Qass. 
Book. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



«r 



THE MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS 

OF 

FRANCIS LIEBER. 
i. 

REMINISCENCES, ADDRESSES, AND ESSAYS. 



Patria cara, carior Libertas, Veritas carissima. 




"-flr- . 



v^ 





Z* C^^7 



'^r 



REMINISCENCES, 



ADDRESSES, AND ESSAYS 



BY 



FRANCIS LIEBER, LL.D., 

CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE, AUTHOR OF 

" POLITICAL ETHICS," " CIVIL LIBERTY," " PRINCIPLES OF 

LEGAL AND POLITICAL INTERPRETATION," ETC. 



BEING 

VOLUME I. OF HIS MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS. 










PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

LONDON: 16 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND. 



fro] 






Copyright, 1880, by MATILDA Lieber. 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 



Introduction by the Editor .... 
Biographical Discourse by Hon. M. R. Thayer 



PAGS 

7 

13 



MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 

Reminiscences 

Of the Historian Niebuhr 

Of the Battle of Waterloo ....... 



Academic Discourses: 

Inaugural in Columbia, S. C, 1835 • 
First Constituents of Civilization, 1845 
Character of the Gentleman, 1846 
On Continued Self-Education, 1851 . 
History and Uses of Athenaeums, 1856 
Inaugural in Columbia College, N. Y., ] 
The Teacher of Politics, 1859 .' 
Alexander von Humboldt, I. 1859. II. 

Essays : 

Washington and Napoleon 
Vocal Sounds of Laura Bridgman 
On the Study of Foreign Languages . 



858 
1869 



45 
149 



179 
205 
225 
281 
297 
329 
369 
389 



413 

443 
499 



INTRODUCTION. 



BY THE EDITOR. 



At the request of the widow of Dr. Francis Lieber, I have 
undertaken to examine and arrange for publication some of 
his less extended, I can hardly call them his less important, 
writings. The task, though a pleasant one, was not easy, for 
the papers submitted to me were voluminous, related to a 
great variety of subjects, and were originally printed in divers 
forms during a period of literary activity which extended 
through almost fifty years. 

Moreover, "while much that he wrote was upon transient 
topics, not much was trivial. He brought to the discussion 
of local and temporary questions rich stores of learning and 
habits of philosophical thought. Even in those essays and 
paragraphs which are humorous there is a grave and sub- 
stantial foundation. He was thoroughly earnest in that which 
was least and in that which was most. He was zealous in his 
desire to promote the highest good of modern society by a 
study of the past, by a comparison of existing institutions 
and of the most recent acts of legislation in different coun- 
tries, and by applying the fundamental principles of justice 
— of rights and of duties — to the passing events in America 
and Europe. 

There is consequently very little which he printed in pam- 
phlets, magazines, or newspapers which would not be valued 
by a student of political science, interested in the lessons to 
be derived from the history of the United States. He was 
never a popular writer, for he went too far below the surface 

7 



8 INTRODUCTION. 

to attract the attention of hasty and superficial readers ; but 
the letters and memoranda which lay scattered through his 
printed papers, as they came into my hands almost from his 
own, afford abundant evidence that throughout his long career 
he was influenced by, and in his turn was influencing, some 
of the most able men who have made their mark upon the 
institutions of this country during the last half-century. 
Among the strongest he was strong. The names of James 
Kent, Edward Livingston, John Pickering, Simon Greenleaf, 
William C. Preston, Horace Binney, Jared Sparks, George 
Ticknor, Alexander D. Bache, John Lothrop Motley, Charles 
Sumner, Henry W. Halleck, Edward Bates, William H. Sew- 
ard, and Edwin L. Stanton (not to mention any who are 
living and not to go beyond the list of our own countrymen) 
occur in that part of his correspondence which I have come 
upon in this editorial service ; but if his memoirs should ever 
be published in full, it will be seen that many others of the 
influential men of his time acknowledged their obligations to 
this vigorous thinker. 

Toward the close of his life, Dr. Lieber intended to prepare 
for publication his miscellaneous writings. A few of his essays 
were thoroughly revised for the press, or left in such a form 
as to show that he thought no revision necessary. In many 
cases he added on the margins notes and memoranda, in- 
tended doubtless to serve for subsequent consideration. Still 
more frequent are slight typographical and verbal corrections. 
Occasionally, different revisions of the same paper are extant. 
It is obvious that he cherished his writings as his children, 
and that as they grew older he meant they should grow better. 
He was their constant critic, for their own good, and because 
he hoped they would live after him and be useful. 

Under these circumstances it has seemed to me that the 
principle which should govern the editorial hand was plain, 
though its application might sometimes be difficult. The vol- 
umes should contain the writings of Dr. Lieber and not of any- 
body else, except in introductions ; and accordingly the only 
notes I have added are those which preface the articles, and 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

are marked with the letter G. All others are Lieber's own. 
Clippings from newspapers and other illustrative citations, and 
the letters addressed to him by friends, all of which were abun- 
dantly interspersed with the printed copies of his own writings, 
have been omitted. It has not always been easy to decide 
what course to follow with regard to the memoranda, which 
were doubtless regarded as important jottings for the author's 
use, but are not so suggestive to other readers. I lean towards 
the preservation of such notes, but some of them are vague 
and fragmentary, and some are disproportionate, so that their 
introduction would be cumbersome or unsatisfactory, and such 
are usually omitted. All changes (except perhaps some trifling 
corrections of inaccuracies) in the text, which distinguish the 
writings in their present form from that in which they origi- 
nally appeared, are believed to be the work of the author's 
own pen. 

In collecting these papers I have been relieved of all labor. 
A large trunk was placed in my hands by the family, contain- 
ing those writings which the author had himself laid aside 
and those which the loving hands of his wife and sons had 
carefully preserved. It is quite possible that some important 
paper has been forgotten; for he was accustomed to send his 
manuscripts to widely-scattered journals, and, so far as I 
know, he kept no list of those which were printed. His con- 
tributions to the newspapers are almost as numerous as if he 
had been the editor of a political journal. Commonly these 
articles are in the form of letters, and are signed either with 
his name, or initials, or with a signature (Americus, Colum- 
biensis, etc.), known to his personal acquaintance, and these 
are, of course, quite easily identified ; but there are doubtless 
anonymous articles, though probably of secondary importance, 
which have not been recognized in domestic and foreign 
publications. 

In selecting from these copious stores the papers now 
published, I have been governed by two limitations — the 
first was a desire of Dr. Lieber's family to include within 
two octavo volumes what may be called his major minor- 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

writings; and the second was their purpose to publish his 
correspondence and memoirs in a separate work. Under this 
twofold influence, I have laid aside for the biographer's use 
the short articles, mostly, as I have said, in an epistolary form, 
which were sent to the newspapers. Among these are some 
very important notes. 

I will only add that the examination of these innumerable, 
off-hand, and timely comments and criticisms upon passing 
events shows how versatile, how incessantly active, and how 
well trained in political philosophy was the mind which spoke 
with such promptitude, raciness, and vigor. 

The variety of material has embarrassed its arrangement. 
There were objections to a chronological sequence ; and it 
was not desirable or possible to make a philosophical treatise 
from the fragments here gathered up. Yet there is a sort of 
natural grouping into which the papers have fallen. 

Dr. Lieber's personal reminiscences of Niebuhr, and of the 
battle of Waterloo, begin the first volume. Then follow 
several academic discourses, his inaugural addresses at South 
Carolina College, in Columbia, and at Columbia College, in 
New York, with some other educational addresses, on the 
Character of the Gentleman, on Self-Education, and on the 
Uses of Athenaeums. His Humboldt addresses are also re- 
printed. Then are given three essays, on Napoleon and 
Washington, on Laura Bridgman, and on the Study of Foreign 
Languages. Taken collectively, this volume indicates, though 
it does not fully show, what Lieber was as a college professor, 
how his youth was trained, how his early manhood encoun- 
tered difficulties, and how, in his mature life, first in the 
South and then in the North, he devoted his powers to the 
instruction of young men. 

The second volume is less personal, more abstract. If it 
is not so interesting to the reader, it is more valuable to the 
scholar. It includes his incomplete study of the Rise of the 
Constitution of the United States, his elaborate lectures upon 
its character, and his suggestions for its amendment, and also 
for the amendment of the Constitution of New York. This 



INTR OD UCTION. 1 1 

is followed by an important " Fragment" entitled " Nationalism 
and Internationalism." " General Order No. ioo," in which he 
set forth, at the request of the government, the rights and 
usages of war for the guidance of armies in the field, and 
two other related papers, upon Guerrilla Warfare, and on 
the Status of Prisoners of War, with three contributions to 
the Revue de Droit International, are next printed. 

Some of his essays upon International Law and upon top- 
ics in Political Science, with two educational papers, complete 
the volume. 

In reviewing the writings of Dr. Lieber, it is interesting to 
trace throughout his life the influence of impressions received 
in his youth. All his later work seems to be the development 
of germs which originated in his early days. His liberal 
education in Berlin fitted him to be the liberal teacher of 
American youth. His career at Waterloo suggested a military 
allusion in many of his writings. Was it not the forerunner 
of " General Order No. ioo"— the law of the battle-field ? He 
was early imprisoned for political offences. Throughout his 
days he was the discriminating friend of the convict and the 
advocate of reforms in penal institutions. "I believe," he 
says, "that I am the only advocate of solitary confinement 
who speaks from personal experience within a prison wall." 
He went to Greece to aid in the establishment of its inde- 
pendence; and he never through life failed to be in sympathy 
with those who were struggling for liberty. He studied 
Rome with Niebuhr as his guide ; and he afterwards drew 
political lessons, whenever they were appropriate, from the 
experience of antiquity. The old world from which he came 
he interpreted to the new in which he dwelt ; to his native 
land he explained his adopted country. He went to the South 
well acquainted with the North ; he came back to the North 
understanding the South. 

His life was long and his impulses were innumerable, but 
from beginning to end, in little things and in great, may be 
traced the character of a philosopher, who studied that which 
was and that which is to help on that which should be. Be- 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

lieving that " above all nations is humanity," he labored in the 
spirit of an enlightened Christian for "Peace on earth, good- 
will to men." Patria cara, carior libertas, Veritas carissima, 
the motto which he inscribed upon the portal of his house in 
New York, may fitly be inscribed on the portal of these 
works. 

As a sketch of his life, introductory to the writings of Lie- 
ber, nothing better can be given than the address of Judge 
Thayer before the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, which 
is here, with his permission, reproduced. The pages in which 
he has delineated the qualities of his friend are like a portrait. 
They awaken in those who knew Dr. Lieber a vivid image of 
his appearance and character, and they give to strangers the 
picture of a good and great man. 

For the second volume, Dr. Bluntschli, the learned pro- 
fessor in Heidelberg, has contributed a most valuable essay 
on Lieber's contributions to international law. 

In the editorial preparation of these volumes I have often 
been indebted for valuable aid and suggestions to Dr. Herbert 
B. Adams, Associate Professor of History in the Johns Hop- 
kins University, and also to others of my colleagues. 

DANIEL C. GILMAN. 
Johns Hopkins University, 
Baltimore, 1879. 



THE LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

OF 

FRANCIS LIEBER. 

A DISCOURSE DELIVERED BEFORE THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY 
OF PENNSYLVANIA, JANUARY 13, 1873. 

BY HON. M. RUSSELL THAYER, 

PRESIDENT JUDGE OF THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS NO. 4, PHILADELPHIA. 



*3 



DISCOURSE. 



In a letter from Rome, dated June 7, 1822, Barthold George 
Niebuhr, the historian of Rome, wrote thus to his sister-in- 
law, Madame Hensler : 

" A young man, Lieber, of Berlin, has arrived here who 
went as a volunteer to Greece, and at length returned, partly 
not to die of hunger, partly because the rascality of the Mo- 
reans and their cowardice became insufferable to him. His 
veracity is beyond suspicion and his tales fill the hearer with 
horror. He is sad and melancholy, because his soul is very 
noble. He interests and touches us much, and we try to 
cheer him by kindness. He belongs to the youth of the 
beautiful time of 18 1 3, when he fought and was severely 
wounded. He is now here without a cent. I shall help him 
at any rate." * The young man, whose arrival in Rome was 
thus noticed, was twenty-two years of age. Of a gentle, but 
brave and self-reliant nature, of studious habits, a philosophi- 
cal turn of mind, and very fond of books, he had already ex- 
perienced much of the roughest discipline of life. His few 
years had been divided between the gymnasium, the univer- 
sity, the camp, and foreign lands. He was yet to become one 
of the profoundest and clearest writers upon political science 
of the present century, one of the chief ornaments of the 
world of letters, the expounder of the principles of civil lib- 



1 Biographic Information (Lebensnachrichten) concerning Barthold George 
Niebuhr, from Letters by himself and Recollections of some of his intimate 
friends. Vol. ii. p. 496, Hamburg, 1838, 3 vols. 

15 



1 6 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

erty, and one of the truly great men of his adopted country. 
In his later years he used to say that his life consisted of 
many geological layers. 

Francis Lieber, a son of Frederick William Lieber, was 
born on the 18th March, 1800, in a house situated in the 
Breite Strasse of Berlin — the same street in which, on his 
birthday in 1848, the chief fight took place between the 
King's troops and the people. His father, a man of business, 
had lost much of his property during the war, and having a 
large family, great economy was necessary. Young Lieber 
was brought up in the most simple habits and accustomed to 
a hardy life. His childhood fell in the momentous times of 
Napoleon's gigantic wars. He once related to me that he 
well remembered, when a child of six years, sitting in the 
window of his father's house and crying bitterly as he beheld 
the French army marching into Berlin after the disastrous 
day of Jena. From his earliest school years he was an ardent 
student, and a favorite with his teachers, always receiving ex- 
cellent testimonials. Some of these he preserved; among 
them, that of the clergyman who had prepared him for con- 
firmation, who spoke of his great desire for instruction, and 
of his earnest devotion. At school he was distinguished for 
his love of truth and justice. He was fond of athletic exer- 
cises, and was a great " Turner" under Jahn. He was an ex- 
cellent swimmer, an accomplishment of which he afterwards 
made use when he first came to Boston, where he established 
a swimming school. He informed me that upon one occa- 
sion he swam four hours without resting. At the age of fif- 
teen his studies were interrupted by the loud blast of that 
trumpet of war which again called the youth of Germany to the 
defence of the homes which all supposed had been rendered 
secure by the victory of Leipsic two years before. 

In his Letters to a Gentleman in Germany, republished in 
England under the title of the Stranger in America, Lieber 
relates how, in 181 5, his father one day came into the room 
where he was studying Loder's Anatomical Tables, and said 



OF FRANCIS LIBBER. 



17 



to him and his brother, " Boys, clean your rifles, — Napoleon 
is loose again ; he has returned from Elba." What followed 
will be best told in his own words. It is a chapter not with- 
out interest in the life of a scholar. 1 

At the close of the Waterloo campaign, as soon as he was 
recovered from his wounds, Lieber returned to his studies, 
and joined the Berlin Gymnasium. These gymnasia had 
been established by Dr. Jahn during the French dominion, 
in order to impart physical vigor and with it moral energy 
to the German youth, after the pedantic period of wigs and 
queues, so as to make them fit at a later period to bear arms. 
The gymnasia became therefore in a manner patriotic schools. 
After the downfall of Napoleon they naturally became schools 
of liberal sentiments — of civil freedom. Jahn and many others 
were arrested as suspected persons, and because young Lieber 
was considered his favorite pupil he too was arrested. He 
now became an author, but malgre lid, for the government 
published several songs of liberty which were found among 
his papers, to prove how dangerous a person this lad was. 
He was detained in prison several months, beguiling the 
tediousness of his confinement by diligent study and reading. 
Upon his discharge from prison without a trial he was told 
that although the charges against him had not been proved, 
he was nevertheless prohibited from studying at the Prussian 
universities. He consequently went to Jena, where he took 
his degrees in 1820. To those who were acquainted with 
Lieber, and who knew the intense love of liberty which ani- 
mated his soul, and the scorn in which he held all systems 
which deprive man of what he believed to be by nature the 
birthright of all, and the hatred which he felt for despotic 
power, whether proceeding from royal prerogative or demo- 
cratic absolutism— a phrase which he himself invented — 
his imprisonment by the Prussian government of that day 
will not appear remarkable. At that very time he maintained, 
in opposition to his republican friends, that German unity was 



1 See beyond, pp. 149-175. 
Vol. I.— 2 



1 8 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

the first of needs for Germany, and that it would be obtained 
only by a revolutionary king or kaiser. Writing nearly fifty 
years afterwards [in 1868], he says: "I have this very moment 
read in the German papers, that Bismarck said in the chamber 
the very thing for which we were hunted down in 1820 and 
1 82 1." No man could be more deeply impressed than was 
Francis Lieber with the truth of that saying of Aristotle : 
"The fellest of things is armed injustice." In 1820 permis- 
sion was granted him to study at Halle, but with the intima- 
tion that he never could expect public employment. Although 
he lived in a very retired manner, devoted to his books, and 
taking no part whatever in political movements, he remained 
under the surveillance of the police and subject to constant 
annoyance from them. His position became so irksome that 
he at length took refuge in Dresden. While living there, not 
unwatched, the Greek revolution broke out. He instantly 
resolved to abandon his country and to take part in the war 
of independence. It was impossible for him to obtain a pass- 
port for any length of time, and particularly for a journey to 
France, yet he had to make his way to Marseilles, where he 
intended to embark for Greece. He took, therefore, a pass- 
port for a journey to Nuremberg, and for the short period of 
a fortnight only. Once in possession of it, he emptied an 
inkstand over the words which declared it to be limited to so 
short a space of time. He then had it signed in every small 
place on his route to Nuremberg, so that, to use his own 
words, " it finally looked formidable enough." Arrived in 
Nuremberg, he accounted for the defacing ink-blot by the 
awkwardness of a police officer, and had the paper signed 
for Munich. There he chose a time when the chief officer 
of the legation had gone to dinner, and had it further signed 
for Switzerland, pretending to be in a great hurry. He trav- 
elled on foot through Switzerland, and thence to Marseilles. 
In this manner and by such shifts did this great historical 
scholar, this profound writer upon the laws of nations, this 
great philosopher who explained and illustrated the nature 
of civil government and the origin and meaning of laws, 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. jg 

whose works have been of incalculable benefit to liberty and 
have added so many new ideas to political science, escape 
from his native land ! 

The enthusiasm which led him to volunteer in the cause 
of Grecian independence met with a severe disappointment. 
The history of that brief and unfortunate struggle is well 
known. His own experience is vividly portrayed in his 
Journal in Greece, written in Rome, and published at Leipsic 
in 1823, and republished at Amsterdam in the same year 
under the title of The German Anacharsis. After suffering 
great hardships he embarked at Missolonghi in 1822 in a 
small vessel bound for Ancona. One scudo and a half was 
all that remained in his purse after paying the price of his 
passage. From Ancona his desire to see Rome induced him 
to make his way to that city, which he had much difficulty in 
reaching and entering, owing to the great gap in his passport. 
He has himself related how he entered by stealth the Porta 
del Popolo, as if the porches of the churches near it and the 
obelisk were nothing new to him, and how his heart beat as 
he approached the tame-looking sentinel of the Papal troops, 
more than it ever had beaten at the approach of any grena- 
dier of the enemy, and the indescribable delight he felt when 
he had safely passed him, and felt and saw that he was in 
Rome. In Rome he found a friend who shared his room 
with him; but he could not reside in Rome for any length of 
time without having permission to do so from the police, and 
that he could not obtain without a certificate from the minis- 
ter of his country that his passport was in order. The very 
contrary was the case. In fact he was ashamed to show his 
passport at the Prussian legation. He resolved, therefore, to 
disclose frankly his situation to Mr. Niebuhr, the Prussian 
ambassador to the Papal See, " hoping," as he said, " that a 
scholar who had written the history of Rome could not be 
so cruel as to drive him from Rome without allowing him 
time to see and study it." The Prussian ambassador resided 
at the Palazzo Orsini, or, as it is frequently called, Teatro di 
Marcello, for the palace is on and within the remains of the 



20 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

theatre which Augustus built and dedicated to his nephew 
Marcellus. " My heart," says Lieber, " grew heavier the 
nearer I approached this venerable pile to which a whole 
history is attached, from the times of antiquity, through the 
middle ages when it served as a castle for its proud inmates, 
and down to the most recent times. The idea that I might 
be disbelieved prevented me for a moment from proceeding 
any farther toward that building under an engraving of which 
in my possession I find that I afterwards wrote these words, 
1 In questa rovina retrovai la vita' " 

Of his reception by Niebuhr he has left a most interesting 
account. 1 

Very soon afterwards Niebuhr invited young Lieber to live 
with him, assisting him, if agreeable to him, in the education 
of his son Marcus. The invitation was accepted, and Lieber 
passed a year of unalloyed happiness in Rome, living in the 
family of the historian, sharing his confidence and affection, 
the daily companion of his walks and of his conversation, 
pursuing all the while his studies and storing his mind with 
the treasures of Roman antiquity and art. 

In the spring of 1823, when Niebuhr quitted the embassy 
at Rome, he took Lieber with him to Naples, whence they 
returned to Rome. Thence they went by the way of Flor- 
ence, Pisa, and Bologna to the Tyrol, and in Innspruck Lieber 
took leave of that family in the bosom of which he had 
passed so many days of happiness. Niebuhr died in January, 
1 83 1. Long afterwards, in his new home across the ocean, 
on the banks of the Congaree, the great publicist embalmed 
his love and gratitude to Niebuhr in that beautiful and im- 
perishable record which contains his reminiscences of the 
friend of his youth. In his dedication of the volume to his 
friend, Mrs. Austin, of London, he says : " I could not have 
graced with your name any pages dearer to me, though pain- 
fully dear I own — leaves written in the greatest of cities, and 
under the roof of my best friend, now perused in distant 



1 See pp. 62, 63 of this volume. 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 21 

America, he dead and I in exile. I felt as if I walked through 
an Italian garden, charming indeed with perfuming flowers 
and lovely alleys and fountains, with the luxuriant trees of 
the south in blossom, the fragrant orange and the glowing 
pomegranate, and with vistas far and wide to the distant deep 
blue mountains. But I felt, too, as if I walked alone in it. With 
all these joyous colors of bright spring around me and the 
cloudless azure vault above me, I felt the grief of loneliness, 
and every .spot reminded me of him and what I owe him." 
The Reminiscences of Niebuhr was republished in England 
by Bentley, and translated into German by the son of Hugo, 
the civilian. 

When Lieber was in Rome with Niebuhr, the King of 
Prussia, visiting that city after the congress of Verona, saw 
him there, and promised Niebuhr that if Lieber desired to 
return to Prussia he should not be molested. From Inns- 
pruck he therefore returned to Prussia, but he had hardly 
arrived in Berlin before he was again arrested upon the old 
charges of enmity to the government, entertaining republican 
sentiments, and belonging to a secret association, and he was 
cast into the State prison of Koepnick. On the 22d March, 
1823, Niebuhr writes : "It has been said that Lieber was to 
be released on his father's birthday, but nothing has come of 
it. Such carelessness in leaving a good man to languish in 
fetters makes me indignant, though no cruelty is intended." 
And again: " April 6, I visited poor Lieber yesterday in the 
Bastile of Koepnick. Oh my God !" He was at length, after 
some months, liberated through Niebuhr's pressing solicita- 
tions, a kindness which was the greater as Niebuhr's own 
political sentiments were regarded with some suspicion by the 
men in power. While at Koepnick, he wrote a little volume 
of poems, Wein und Wonne Lieder, which was published at 
Berlin under the name of Arnold Franz. Fearing renewed 
persecution, he took refuge in England. He arrived in Lon- 
don in 1825, where he resided for a year, writing for German 
periodicals and giving lessons in the languages for his sup- 
port. He always said it was the hardest time of his life, 



22 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

"doing uncongenial work, and physically laboring like an 
American army mule." 

In 1827 he came to the United States with warm recom- 
mendations from Niebuhr, whose letters show his great esti- 
mation and affection for his young friend, and from other 
eminent men. In a letter, Sept. 13, 1827, Niebuhr wrote to 
him : " I approve of your resolution to go to America so 
entirely that, had you been able to ask my advice beforehand, 
I should have unqualifiedly urged you to go. Only beware 
that you do not fall into an idolatry of the country and that 
state of things which is so dazzling because it shows the 
material world in so favorable a light. Remain a German, 
and without counting hour and day, yet say to yourself that 
the hour and day will come when you will be able to return." 
He also advised him, perceiving, no doubt, the bent of his 
mind, to write no political dissertations, and closed his letter 
with these words: "The paper is filled to the margin, and 
therefore I can only add, God bless you. My wife and chil- 
dren send their love. Marcus thinks and speaks of you as if 
we had left Rome but a few weeks ago." But notwithstanding 
his reverence and affection for his friend, Lieber did not obey 
his injunctions in the two particulars in regard to which he 
had been most emphatic in his advice. He became an Amer- 
ican citizen at the earliest possible moment when the law would 
permit him to do so, and his great and enduring fame rests upon 
his political writings; not, I need hardly say, upon fugitive dis- 
sertations upon the. politics of the day — that most ephemeral 
of all literature, but upon those masterly and laborious works 
upon political science, which are a vast and rich mine of 
thought upon the subjects of which they treat, while the 
learning, originality, and power which distinguish them have 
made them an authority in all lands and before all tribunals. 

He arrived at New York June 20, 1827, and proceeded to 
Boston, where he took up his residence. There he com- 
menced his laborious work, The Encyclopedia Americana, 
in thirteen volumes, in which he was employed five years. 
During this time he also prepared, with the assistance of his 



OF. FRANCIS LIBBER. 



23 



wife, and published the translation of a French work on the 
Revolution of 1830, and of a German work on Casper Hauser, 
by Feuerbach. He always looked back with pleasure to his 
residence in Boston, where he numbered among his most 
highly esteemed and intimate friends Story, Pickering, Chan- 
ning, Sullivan, Ticknor, Prescott, and many other distin- 
guished men. In 1832 he removed to New York, where he 
published a translation of De Beaumont and De Tocqueville's 
work on the Penitentiary System, with an introduction and 
many notes, which were in turn translated in Germany. While 
in New York he received from the trustees- of Girard College, 
at the head of whom was Nicholas Biddle, the honorable 
commission of preparing a plan of education and instruction 
for that institution. This brought him to Philadelphia in 
1833, where he remained about two years, and where was 
published, besides his plan of education, Letters to a Gentle- 
man in Germany. He employed himself also at this time in 
writing a supplement to his Encyclopedia, but, owing to the 
deranged condition of the monetary affairs of the country 
resulting from General Jackson's war upon the United States 
Bank, the supplement was not continued. In Philadelphia he 
made many valued friends who remember with delight the 
charms of his society and the singular fascination of his con- 
versation, so replete with instruction, so full of experience of 
the world and of knowledge of events and of men, and so 
much brightened by the playfulness of a cheerful mind and 
the gayety of a sparkling wit. 

In 1835 he was appointed to the professorship of History 
and Political Economy in South Carolina College. He re- 
mained in that position, residing at Columbia, for a period 
of more than twenty years, — always highly honored by the 
distinguished men of the South, — and discharging the duties 
of his chair with great success and a constantly increasing 
reputation. Here he wrote and published the great works 
upon which his fame will chiefly rest, — the three principal of 
which are his Manual of Political Ethics, 2 vols., published 
in 1838; Legal and Political Hermeneutics, or the Principles 



24 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

of Interpretation and Construction in Law and Politics, I 
vol., published in 1839; and his "Civil Liberty and Self- 
Government, 2 vols., published in 1853. It is difficult, within 
the limits of such a discourse as this, to convey any adequate 
idea of the weight and value of these great works. They 
were positive additions of the greatest importance to the 
knowledge previously possessed upon these subjects. They 
embodied in a profound, original, and comprehensive system 
the principles upon which human society and government re- 
pose. They traced to their true sources all the social and 
governmental relations and expounded their reasons, their 
history, their distinctions, and their philosophic significance 
and results, with a clearness of exhibition, a force of argu- 
ment, a wealth of learning, a power of illustration, and a high 
moral purpose never before seen in the same field. In his 
Political Ethics he shows how the principles of ethics are ap- 
plicable to political affairs, by what moral laws we ought to 
be governed in political cases, what conscience and experience 
prescribe for a citizen in his relations to government, the law, 
and society. He treats of the state, its nature, origin, objects, 
and just relations, of primordial and inalienable rights, of 
society and its sovereignty, of true allegiance, of law and its 
provinces and administration, of government and its powers 
and abuses, of constitutions written and unwritten, of crimes 
and their punishment, of industry and its relations to the 
state, of the reciprocal relation of rights and duties, of politi- 
cal virtue, of wealth and poverty in its influence on society and 
states, of education, of woman and her relations to society, 
of the press, of elections and voting, of legislatures and judges, 
of parties in the government, of majorities and the rights of 
minorities, of executive officers and their duties, of jurors, 
advocates, and witnesses, of war and the duties of the soldier, 
of religion, justice, and patriotism, which he called the three 
pillars of society and the state. Everywhere among learned 
and scientific men this great work created a profound impres- 
sion. Chancellor Kent in his Commentaries commended it 
in the strongest terms for the excellence of its doctrines and 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 2 $ 

its various and profound erudition, and observed that "when 
he read Lieber's works, he always felt that he had a sure pilot 
on board, however dangerous the navigation." In a letter to 
Lieber, Judge Story said of it: " It contains by far the fullest 
and most correct development of the true theory of what 
constitutes the state that I have ever seen. It abounds with 
profound views of government, which are illustrated with 
various learning. To me many of the thoughts are new, and 
striking as they are new. I do not hesitate to say that it con- 
stitutes one of the best theoretical treatises on the true nature 
and objects of government which has been produced in 
modern times, containing much for instruction, much for ad- 
monition, and much for deep meditation, addressing itself to 
the wise and virtuous of all countries. It solves the question 
what government is best by the answer, illustrated in a thou- 
sand ways, that it is that which best promotes the substantial 
interests of the whole people of the nation upon which it acts. 
Such a work is peculiarly important in these times when so 
many false theories are afloat and so many disturbing doc- 
trines are promulgated." " It bears testimony," wrote Henry 
Hallam, " to your exertions in the great field of philosophical 
jurisprudence." " It is remarkable," wrote William H. Pres- 
cott, " that you should have brought together such a variety 
of pertinent illustrations from all sources, familiar as well as 
recondite, by which you have given life and a popular interest 
to your philosophy. It is a book so full of suggestion, that 
the reader has done only half his work when he has read a 
chapter, for it puts him on a train of thinking for himself 
which he must carry on after he has closed the volume." In 
his Ferdinand and Isabella, Mr. Prescott declares of Lieber's 
works, that they could not have been produced before the 
nineteenth century. " What strikes me particularly," wrote 
William Kent, " is the vast range of illustration your writings 
have drawn from current literature, contemporaneous history, 
and a thousand sources which, after all my conversations with 
you, still amaze me. It is this faculty of yours to range over 
all things, great and small, past and present, and extract a 



26 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

moral, or a rule, or a philosophic deduction, 'hived like the 
honey bag o' the bee,' which strikes me the most in your 
books. You would have made a great common-law lawyer. 
The whole turn of your mind is that way, your taste for Eng- 
lish history and preference for English liberty, all show your 
predominating inclination/' " In my opinion," wrote Chan- 
cellor Kent to Chancellor De Saussure, of South Carolina, 
" Lieber's eminence as a scholar in history, political economy, 
ethics, principles of government, geography, and belles-lettres, 
would elevate the reputation of any university in our country. 
His talents, his learning, and great moral worth are conceded 
by all his extensive acquaintance, among whom are some of 
the first scholars and jurists in the United States." By Eng- 
lish critics the Political Ethics was compared favorably with 
the great work of Montesquieu, and regarded as pre-eminent 
among works on political science. 

The Legal and Political Hermeneutics, which followed the 
Political Ethics, is a most lucid treatise on the principles 
and science of interpretation and construction in law and poli- 
tics. It is spoken of in terms of the highest admiration by 
Professor Greenleaf, a very competent judge, who adds, in re- 
spect to Lieber's writings generally: "he always leaps into the 
deepest water, and always comes up like a good swimmer." 
Rufus Choate wrote, June 25, 1854: " I consider very few of 
my cases prepared without dipping into you, and what the 
Ethics don't furnish the Hermeneutics do." Lieber's distinc- 
tion between interpretation and construction has been gener- 
ally adopted by legal writers. There was something more in 
these commendations of great and learned men (it is well ob- 
served by a writer in The Nation) than mere compliment, for 
" many of the topics discussed were at the time new, doubtful, 
and difficult, and Lieber lived to find conclusions which he 
had arrived at and was the first to express thirty years ago, 
referred to by writers of the present day as familiar political 
truths, without, perhaps, any conception on the part of the 
writers of the source whence they were derived." 

But the best known of his productions is his work on Civil 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



27 



Liberty and Self-Government, — a work which has received 
the highest commendation not only in this country, but in 
Europe also. Professor Creasy, of London, in his Rise and 
Progress of the British Constitution, very frequently quotes 
from it, adding the highest praise, while on the continent such 
publicists as Von Mohl and Mittermaier confirm the correct- 
ness of his judgment. To them may be added Garelli, the 
eminent Italian jurist, and many other distinguished writers 
upon international and public law. " Dr. Lieber," says Pro- 
fessor Creasy, " is the first who has pointed out the all-impor- 
tant principle of English and American liberty, that every 
officer remains individually responsible for whatever he does, 
no matter whether he acts under the order of his superiors or 
not — a principle wholly unknown in other countries." His 
Civil Liberty and Self-Government was intended as a sequel 
to that portion of his Political Ethics which treats of liberty 
as a political right which depends upon civil institutions. He 
called it " institutional liberty," a very happy and original 
formulation of the truth that political liberty is dependent 
upon certain fundamental institutions which are necessary for 
its existence. In this great work he handled the most difficult 
subjects in the most masterly manner, reasoning always with 
a bold and independent spirit, animated with a constant love 
of truth and liberty, striking- always heavy blows at every 
form of oppression, and embellishing his argument with a 
copiousness of illustration from history which makes the 
whole work attractive in the highest degree. He treats of 
ancient and modern liberty, of ancient, mediaeval, and modern 
states, of national independence and personal liberty, of the 
rights of personal locomotion, communion, emigration, and 
petition, of liberty of conscience, of property, of the supremacy 
of law, of high treason, of bail and trial, of publicity in politi- 
cal affairs, of taxation, of division of power, of responsible 
ministers and representative government, of the independence 
of the judiciary, of parliamentary law, of the bi-cameral system, 
of institutional self-government, of the wealth and longevity 
of states, and a hundred other topics of like importance ; and 



28 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

there is not one which he touches upon which he does not 
cast a new light, and which he does not exhibit in a form 
more clear and attractive than that in which such subjects have 
been hitherto placed. Mr. Bancroft has justly said of this 
great work of Lieber, that " it entitles him to the honors of a 
defender of liberty." 

His truthful and independent mind always pursued an even 
course, avoiding all pernicious extremes, pandering to no 
man's prejudices, and fearing no man's judgment. He hated 
a demagogue if possible more than he hated a tyrant, and he 
hated the latter as an enemy of his race. " The doctrine Vox 
populi vox Dei,'.' said he, " is essentially unrepublican, as the 
doctrine that the people may do what they list under the 
constitution, above the constitution, and against the consti- 
tution, is an open avowal of disbelief in self-government. The 
true and stanch republican wants liberty, but no deification of 
himself or others ; he wants a firmly built self-government 
and noble institutions, but no absolutism of any sort — none 
to practise on others, and none to be practised on himself. 
He is too proud for the Vox populi vox Dei. He wants no 
divine right of the people, for he knows very well that it means 
nothing but the despotic power of insinuating leaders. He 
wants the real rule of the people, that is, the institutionally 
organized country, which distinguishes it from a mere mob. 
For a mob is an unorganic multitude, with a general impulse 
of action. Woe to the country in which political hypocrisy 
first calls the people almighty, then teaches that the voice of 
the people is divine, then pretends to take a mere clamor for 
the true voice of the people, and lastly gets up the desired 
clamor." 

The influence of these great works of Lieber upon the 
public mind of the world has been very great, particularly 
in this country and in England, while the civilians and 
scholars of all lands have borne testimony to the originality, 
the genius, and the power which they display. He had a 
large and comprehensive mind, which grasped a subject 
firmly, turned it over and over, examined it as a whole and in 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



2 9 



all its details, and never let it go until under the strong rays 
of reason, and in the light of the highest morality and truth, 
its true proportions and just relations stood clearly revealed. 

In one of his works he has said that memory is "the most 
useful and indispensable of all instruments in all pursuits." 
He himself had a most wonderful memory. His mind was 
a great store-house where seemed to be preserved, ready for 
use, all his extensive and varied learning — all that he had 
read, or heard, or witnessed, in the wide range of a great 
and multifarious experience. Yet he was never pedantic. 
He never quoted for mere ostentation or ornament of speech. 
He never fell into the error of betraying the pleasure which a 
quoting author derives from having overcome the difficulty 
of a foreign language. He was perfectly familiar with Greek 
and Latin, thoroughly accomplished in all classical learning, 
ancient and modern, and spoke and wrote most of the lan- 
guages of Europe. His English is written with as much 
ease and purity as if it had been his native tongue. It 
is, indeed, most remarkable that, having come to this country 
at the age of twenty-seven, he should so thoroughly have 
mastered the language that his works are written in a style 
which, for strength, vigor, perspicuity, exactness of expres- 
sion, simplicity and idiomatic accuracy, might serve as a 
model for such compositions. In the treatment of his sub- 
jects he was eminently practical. He wasted little labor 
upon mere ornament, but every sentence was solid and com- 
pact with thought. 

He was honest and conscientious, intrepid in his defence of 
truth and liberty, unsparing in his exposure and denunciation 
of falsehood and tyranny. He loved to tear away the mask 
which concealed pernicious errors, and to reveal truth in all 
the majesty and stately beauty which belong to her. If I 
were asked to describe the leading characteristics of his mind, 
I would say that they were an intense love of knowledge, an 
intense love of truth, and an intense patriotism. If I were 
asked what were his most useful faculties, I would answer, 
his strong, retentive memory, and his broad, clear, sagacious 



30 



LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 



common sense and solid judgment. If I were asked what 
were his most attractive personal qualities, I would say the 
charming simplicity and candor of his character, his delight- 
ful and instructive conversation, and the quiet, playful humor 
which lighted up and animated his social intercourse. 

Besides the three great works which have been particularly 
mentioned, Lieber wrote many other things of great value, 
among the principal of which may be mentioned The Origin 
and Development of the First Constituents of Civilization ; 
Great Events described by Great Historians; Essays upon 
Property and Labor; The Laws of Property; Penal Laws 
and the Penitentiary System ; On Prison Discipline ; The 
Relation between Education and Crime ; The Pardoning 
Power ; International Copyright ; The Character of the 
Gentleman; The Study of Latin and Greek as Elements 
of Education ; on Laura Bridgman's Vocal Sounds ; on 
Anglican and Gallican Liberty (translated into German 
with many notes and additions by Privy Counsellor Mit- 
termaier ; on the Post-Office and Postal Reforms ; on the 
Independence of the Judiciary; on Two Houses of Legis- 
lature, and a very large number of minor tracts and pub- 
lications. 1 

Of Property and Labor, Professor Greenleaf wrote, in Oc- 
tober, 1842: "The feature of your book which strikes me most 
strongly is the strong common sense and sound reason mani- 
fested in regard to the origin of property; brushing away at a 
stroke the cobweb theories of previous tenancy in common 
and of social compact. To me all the theories I had previ- 
ously met with upon the original title to individual property ap- 
peared visionary and unsound. But you have spoken directly 



1 He wrote many able articles on public questions, which appeared in the 
New York Evening Post, over the signature " Americus." The last one he 
ever wrote appeared in that journal, Sept. 24, 1872, and was entitled " Religion 
and Law." He also contributed many valuable papers to the Revue de Droit 
International. M. Rolin-Jaequemyns, the learned editor of that review, has, 
in a recent number, paid a very eloquent and affectionate tribute to the memory 
of Lieber. 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



31 



to my understanding and borne me along with you, my mind 
joyously assenting to each successive step in the induction." 

In 1844 Lieber visited his native city of Berlin. He had 
an interview with the king, Frederick William IV., who re- 
ceived him very cordially, and insisted that he must now re- 
main in Prussia. " We must do something," said the king, 
" to keep you here ; you must not be lost to us." He was 
accordingly offered a new professorship of Penology in the 
University of Berlin, with the inspectorship of all the prisons 
in the kingdom. But neither the request of the king nor the 
friendship of Humboldt could overcome his preference for 
the land of his adoption. His memory, however, recalled in 
singular contrast with the honors then bestowed upon him, 
the political persecution which compelled him who had in 
his youth borne arms for his country and bled in her cause, 
to steal away by stealth from his native land. 

In December, 1856, Dr. Lieber resigned his professorship 
in South Carolina College. The resolutions adopted by the 
alumni of that institution and conveyed to him by their 
committee, Wm. C. Preston, Gov. Manning, Jas. L. Petigru, 
Richard Yeadon, J. H. Hudson, and Jos. B. Allston, attest 
their profound regret and their sense of the loss which that 
institution suffered by his departure. In 1857 he was elected 
to a similar professorship in Columbia College, New York, 
and subsequently to the chair of Political Science in the Law 
School of the same institution. He continued in the dis- 
charge of the duties of that position to the time of his death, 
which occurred at his house in New York, on the afternoon 
of the 2d October, 1872. His habits of industry continued 
until the close of his life. He was engaged, at the time of 
his death, in writing a work upon the Rise of the Constitu- 
tion, and had so far progressed in it as to insure, it is hoped, 
its publication ; for it cannot but prove a most valuable addi- 
tion to that department of the law. I may state here, in 
passing, that he wrote the article " Constitution" in Bouvier's 
Law Dictionary. During the period of his connection with 
the Law School of Columbia College his writings upon vari- 



32 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

ous subjects were too numerous to receive a detailed notice 
here. They were upon a great variety of subjects, and all 
of them displayed the strength of argument and wonderful 
power of illustration which characterize all his works. The 
general character of his political writings is happily drawn in 
the Princeton Review of October, 1858: " Lieber is a man 
who stands on the altitudes of history, and not on a mere 
political platform. His work is, therefore, based upon the 
grand memories of the past, and not upon the shifting poli- 
tics of a day. Most political writers have looked at political 
life from one point of view — that of their own times. But 
Lieber has looked at it from every period presented in each 
successive cycle of human progress, and has not only appre- 
ciated the results of the working of the various institutions, 
but has noted the growth and the mutations from age to age 
of the institutions. In the true scientific spirit Lieber brings 
to his expositions of principles all the resources of abstract 
reasoning ; well knowing, and, indeed, so declaring, that all 
progress is founded in historical development and abstract 
reasoning. While, therefore, Lieber lights the torch of sci- 
ence at no lights but those of experience, he adds to it that 
prescience of reason which is to direct the statesman's fore- 
cast into the future." One of the most important considera- 
tions relating to his works is the fact that he was a republican, 
and believed in liberty as organized and guaranteed by the 
institutions of this country. He, therefore, viewed political 
principles and institutions from a point different from that occu- 
pied by the great European writers upon the same subjects. 

During the late civil war Lieber rendered very valuable 
service to the government and the country. He was one of 
the first to point out, by his pen, the madness of secession, 
and to impress upon the country the value of the institutions 
which were endangered. As early as 185 1, in an address de- 
livered in South Carolina, he had warned the South of the 
ruin with which the doctrine of secession threatened it and 
the whole country. During the whole war his pen was con- 
stantly at work supporting the government and upholding the 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



33 



Union. 1 He was frequently summoned to Washington by- 
telegraph by the Secretary of War for consultation and advice 
upon the most important subjects. His correspondence with 
the Secretary, and with General Halleck while General-in-Chief, 
is very voluminous. The Code of War, prepared by him 
upon the requisition of the President of the United States, 
and promulgated in general orders of the War Department, 
No. ioo (1863), as Instructions for the Government of the 
Armies of the United States in the Field, is one of the 
greatest works of his later years. He thereby conferred not 
only a benefit upon his own country, but added a new chap- 
ter, replete with noble and humane sentiments, to the law of 
war. M. Laboulaye has justly described these instructions as 
a masterpiece, and they suggested to Bluntschli the plan of 
codifying the law of nations, as may be seen in his letter to 
Lieber, which serves as a preface to his work Droit Interna- 
tional Codifie. Bluntschli published as an appendix to his 
Code the whole of Lieber's Instructions for the Army. Dr. 
Lieber used to call this work his " old hundred." 

His pamphlet on Guerrilla Parties, considered with Refer- 
ence to the Laws and Usages of War, written at the request 
of Major-General Halleck, was another important contribution 
to the cause of his country and to the law of war. At the close 
of the war he was placed in charge of the Rebel Archives for 
the purpose of classifying and arranging them, a duty which 
occupied him for several months ; and he was, at the time of 
his death, the umpire of the commission for the adjudication 
of Mexican claims. 

Among the most perfect of all his minor writings at this 
period was the small fragment entitled Nationalism, which 
Garelli, the Italian publicist and author of La Pace, calls 
Vanreo opuscolo — the Golden Tract. It contains within a very 



1 He was president and one of the founders of the Loyal Publication Society, 
in 1863, and wrote some of its most popular publications. Among them Sla- 
very, Plantations, and the Yeomanry; The Arguments of Secessionists; No 
Party Now, but All for our Country; Amendments to the Constitution submitted 
to the Consideration of the American People. 
Vol. I.— 3 



34 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

small compass a greater amount of political philosophy and a 
more condensed statement of the general truths derived from 
historic experience than was perhaps ever before embraced 
within the same space. It closes with this grand thought: 
" The civilized nations have come to form a community of 
nations, under the restraint and protection of the Law of Na- 
tions, which rules vigore divino. They draw the chariot of 
civilization abreast, as the ancient steeds drew the car of 
victory/' 

America owes a large debt to Lieber. Probably no man 
has instructed so many of our countrymen in the truths of 
history, the canons of ethics, and the principles of political 
science. Nearly forty years of his life were spent in that 
service, years crowded also with industry in other depart- 
ments, and in which he produced those great works which 
will in the future take their place beside the most important 
which have appeared in the history of jurisprudence. His 
method of teaching was such as to make the subject attractive 
in the highest degree to his students, and they thoroughly 
understood everything they learned. He never read lectures, 
but expounded his subject, in terse, familiar language, and 
impressed them by copious and happy illustrations. At the 
end of every recitation he gave out what for the next time 
they ought to read collaterally, and what peculiar subjects or 
persons they ought to study, besides the lesson. He caused 
them to read poetry and fiction, in connection with history, to 
see how great writers had conceived great characters. He 
relied much upon the blackboard. To one he would give 
chronology, to another geography, to another names, to an- 
other battles. Four large blackboards were in constant use 
at the same time, and often a considerable part of the floor 
besides. All names were required to be written down, some- 
times sixty or seventy by one student, with a word or two 
showing that the writer knew what they meant. All places 
were pointed out on large maps and globes. All definitions 
were written on the blackboard, in order that there might be 
no mistake. Foreign names were always written on the black- 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



35 



board behind him. He always appointed a lesson, but the 
students when they came did not know whether they were to 
recite or to listen to a lecture, so that they always had to be 
prepared. Notes of his lectures were to be taken, and he re- 
quired each student to have a blank book, wherein they must 
enter titles of books and subjects to be studied in later life — 
such as were necessary for an educated man ; and he was 
particular in requiring this blank book to have a firm cover. 
He used to say that books were, like men, of little use with- 
out a stiff back. He frequently bound books himself. He 
was a man of generous mind, and was full of sensibility. He 
loved his students and was greatly beloved by them. On one 
occasion the competitors for the prize in his department of 
the Law School at Columbia College were writing their prize 
papers on the national elements in our Constitution, their 
genesis and history. For this purpose they were allowed two 
or three hours, during which they were obliged to complete 
their essays without assistance. At the end of the time, he 
was requested by his students to extend it for one of their 
number. " But why ?" he asked. The answer was : " He was 
wounded at Fort Fisher in the right arm, and cannot write as 
fast as we can." The instructor could only nod his assent, 
and was obliged to turn quickly away to conceal the emotion 
which overcame him. 

He was more than a mere teacher of a profound science. 
He embraced every opportunity to infuse the noblest senti- 
ments into the minds of his pupils ; so that he could truly 
say, as in his prefatory address to his former pupils prefixed 
to his Civil Liberty : " You can bear me witness that I have 
endeavored to convince you of man's inextinguishable indi- 
viduality, and of the organic nature of society; that there 
is no right without a parallel duty, no liberty without the 
supremacy of the law, and no high destiny without persever- 
ance — that there can be no greatness without self-denial." 

He was thoroughly American in all his feelings — as much 
so as if he had been born here. Few persons were so well 
acquainted with our history, or understood so well the char- 



36 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

acter of our institutions. Few were so well versed in the 
political changes of this country, or knew so many of its 
leading men. He took a lively interest in all public measures, 
and followed attentively the course of legislation. He watched 
with anxiety every political crisis, and wrote and worked for 
what he considered the right side of every question. His in- 
terests and affections were bound up in America. He admired 
her institutions, but was not blind to their weak points, and 
labored constantly to strengthen and improve them. He often 
took an active part in public affairs, but never sank to the low 
level of a partisan. He felt an interest in all which concerned 
the welfare of his country, and was proud of all that added to 
her glory and her greatness. Yet his heart was true to his 
native land, and when the great war broke out which ended 
in the establishment of her supremacy and unity, he chafed 
because he could not go to her assistance. On the 22d of 
July, 1870, he wrote: "I am writing at random, for my very 
soul is filled with that one word, one idea, one feeling — Ger- 
many. The stream of blood which will flow will probably not 
be very long, but very wide, wide like a lake, and very deep." 
And again on the 1 8th August, 1870: " My German letters 
confirm that all Germans are animated by the noblest feelings, 
and are ready to sacrifice money, life, everything, in defence 
of their country. The fathers of families, supporting them by 
their hands, refuse to be refused, until the king is obliged to 
telegraph ' accept them,' and judges and civil officers of high 
station volunteer and join the ranks. And I sit here and write 
like a dullard. It is very hard." He was then seventy years 
of age, but the patriotic fire burned as brightly in his bosom 
as in the young days when he challenged the justice of despotic 
government, or volunteered in the cause of Greece. In truth 
Francis Lieber belonged to the whole world. His thoughts 
and the course of his studies led him to regard nations only 
as different members of the same household. He illustrated 
in his life and writings the full force of the saying ubi libertas 
ibi patria. He hated oppression in every place and under 
every form. I once heard him say that his feelings were such 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



37 



towards Louis XIV. that he did not know how he could pos- 
sibly speak to him if he met him in the next world. His 
catholic spirit overleaped in its sympathies all geographical 
lines, and compassed all men in its boundless affection and 
solicitude. He regarded all Christian and civilized states as 
members of the same family, whose intercourse based upon 
reciprocal justice and kindness is necessary for the happiness 
of each, for " we are," as he himself said when speaking of 
Europe and America, " of, kindred blood, of one Christian 
faith, of similar pursuits and civilization; we have one science 
and the same arts, we have one common treasure of knowledge 
and power. Our alphabet and numeric signs are the same, 
and we are members of one family of advanced nations." 

For England, next to his native land and his adopted 
country, he had the greatest admiration. He called her a 
" royal republic," as Thomas Arnold many years later called 
her a kingly commonwealth. He had studied profoundly her 
constitutional history and the development of her institutions. 
There is no more eloquent passage in all his works than that 
in the introduction to his Civil Liberty in which he describes 
her as leading the van of nations in the dissemination of lib- 
eral principles — a passage of so much beauty that I cannot 
forbear to quote it here. 

" England was the earliest country to put an end to feudal 
isolation, while still retaining independent institutions, and to 
unite the estates into a powerful general parliament, able to 
protect the nation against the crown. In England we first see 
applied in practice, and on a grand scale, the idea which came 
originally from the Netherlands, that liberty must not be a 
boon of the government, but that government must derive its 
rights from the people. Here, too, the people always clung to 
the right to tax themselves ; and here, from the earliest times, 
the administration of justice has been separated from the other 
functions of government, and devolved upon magistrates set 
apart for this end, a separation not yet found in all countries. 
In England, power of all kind, even of the crown, has ever 
bowed, at least theoretically, to the supremacy of the law ; and 



38 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

that country may claim the imperishable glory of having formed 
a national representative system of two houses, governed by a 
parliamentary law of their own, with that important element, 
at once conservative and progressive, of a lawful, loyal oppo- 
sition. It is that country which alone saved judicial and politi- 
cal publicity, when secrecy prevailed everywhere else; which 
retained a self-developing common law and established the trial 
by jury. In England, the principles of self-government were 
not swept away, and all the chief principles and guarantees of 
her great charter and the petition of right have passed over 
into our constitutions. We belong to the Anglican race, which 
carries Anglican principles and liberty over the globe, because 
wherever it moves, liberal institutions and a common law full 
of manly rights and instinct with the principle of an expansive 
life accompany it. We belong to that race whose obvious task 
it is, among other proud and sacred tasks, to rear and spread 
civil liberty over vast regions in every part of the earth, on 
continent and isle. We belong to that tribe which alone has 
the word self-government. We belong to that nation whose 
great lot it is to be placed, with the full inheritance of freedom, 
on the freshest soil in the noblest site between Europe and Asia, 
a nation young, whose kindred countries, powerful in wealth, 
armies, and intellect, are old. It is a period when a peaceful 
migration of nations, similar in the weight of numbers to the 
warlike migration of the early middle ages, pours its crowd 
into the lap of our more favored land, there to try, and at times 
to test to the utmost, our institutions — institutions which are 
our foundations and buttresses, as the law which they embody 
and organize is our sole and sovereign master." 

Lieber was extremely fond of historical as well as political 
studies, and probably no man in this country had a more 
extensive or accurate knowledge of historical subjects. Not 
only was he acquainted with their minute details, but he ex- 
plored their most hidden recesses. To use an expression 
which was familiar with him, he read history " between the 
lines." He knew its secret springs and was complete master 
of its philosophy. The Historical Society of Pennsylvania, 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 39 

of which he was so long a member, fitly unites the expression 
of its profound regret at the loss of this great scholar, jurist, 
and philosopher, with those which proceed from the whole 
world of science and of letters. 

Of his personal habits, sentiments, and peculiarities I may 
add a few words. He was a firm believer in the Christian 
religion. His life was pure and conformed to its precepts. 
He was a Protestant and a zealous defender of religious as 
well as civil liberty. Nothing roused his indignation more 
than any attempt, proceeding from whatever quarter, to coerce 
men's consciences. Referring in one of his letters to the fact 
that, in the first quarter of this century, Ferdinand VIL, 
through the influence of the Spanish priesthood, had abol- 
ished the chairs of Natural Philosophy in the University of 
Salamanca, because the study of those sciences led to infidel- 
ity, he exclaims, "A fine God that of those priests! Whether 
you approach him by reading the Bible or by reading nature 
you are alike led to atheism. O God of Truth, how long? 
how long ?" There was nothing which he abhorred so much 
as tyranny, and none whom he hated so much as tyrants. 
Of Louis Napoleon he said, " His success has been owing to 
his being entirely untrammelled by conscience or honor, to 
his unlimited arrogance and his perfect freedom from shame." 

In his views of the Constitution he was eminently national. 
He adopted the views of Hamilton and Madison. He hated 
the doctrine of State-rights (in the political sense in which it 
is commonly received), which he looked upon as the dry rot 
in the ship of state. He believed the United States to be a 
nation and not a league of states. 1 He was opposed to that 
nice and strict construction of the Constitution which would 
deprive the national government of its vigor and its unity. 
At the same time he defended the right of local self-govern- 
ment in all matters relating properly to the people of the 
several States. He was opposed to all efforts to confuse the 



1 See his powerful argument in the pamphlet entitled What is our Constitution 
-League, Pact, or Government? 1861. 



40 



LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 



boundaries which define the just limits of State and National 
authority. He was extremely hostile to a tariff, and a firm 
believer in free-trade, of which he was one of the most able 
champions, and to the defence of which he devoted many of 
his hours, writing many pamphlets and articles in support of 
his views. 

He had very little time to devote to the natural sciences, 
for his studies lay in other directions, but he was well ac- 
quainted with their history and principal facts and theories, 
and with the lives of the great men eminent in those pursuits. 
He thoroughly despised the Darwinian theory of natural se- 
lection and development, and always spoke of it as Darwin's 
beast humanity. When great truths impressed themselves 
upon his mind he was in the habit of formulating them in a 
few weighty words. Thus in treating of the relationship of 
right and duty he showed the intercompleting relation of the 
two, and the fatal mistake of supposing that liberty consisted 
in rights alone, and expressed it in the aphorism Nullum jus 
sine officio, nullum officium sine jure, — no right without its 
duties, no duty without its rights ; and this motto he had 
engraved at the top of his letters for many years before his 
death. 

He was jealous of his fame and greatly gratified when his 
works were appreciated. He did not disguise the pleasure 
he felt upon one occasion at hearing that a set of his works 
had been ordered from Australia. In one of his letters he 
speaks of the pleasure with which he had just read one of his 
earlier productions, written thirty years before, and immedi- 
ately apologizes for his self-admiration by telling the follow- 
ing story: "I once stood with the famous Mrs. Herz, the 
Platonic friend and student of Schleiermacher, when she was 
quite old, before her own portrait taken when she was young. 
She looked silently at the picture for some time, and then 
said 'she was very beautiful.' I was young then, but just 
returned from Greece and Rome and Niebuhr. The waves 
of my soul were short and boiling, and this saying touched 
me much." 



OF FRANCIS LIBBER. 41 

He was a great lover of the fine arts. "What," he once 
wrote, "will become of the world when there will be no 
Raphael, no Apollo Belvedere, no Angelo ? — and that time 
will come." He took great delight in nature. A flower, even 
a leaf, sometimes gave him the greatest pleasure. He was 
very fond of little children and their sayings. In recent let- 
ters which passed between himself and the poet Longfellow 
these two communicated to each other the sayings of some 
little children. Children loved him, and in the cars and 
other places he would constantly make acquaintance with 
them and relate their sayings when he came home. He dis- 
liked all slang expressions, and had an especial contempt for 
the common expression "a self-made man." A man once 
said to him, "Sir, I am a self-made man." "Indeed !" replied 
Lieber; " what a pity I was not present ! I have long wished 
to be present when a man was making himself." He was 
very fond of fine and delicate perfumes, and used to say it 
was his only extravagance. He would often bring home 
little boxes filled with Lubin's violet, in which he particularly 
delighted. A little bottle stood in every room in which he 
habitually came. 

It was his habit in reading or studying to use a great 
number of book-marks. These consisted of narrow strips of 
pasteboard, upon each one of which was usually written some 
important historical date, some pregnant maxim, or some 
weighty saying. He was exceedingly industrious, as may be 
easily seen in the great number and variety of his produc- 
tions. His table and every chair in the room were always 
covered with books and papers. He was very seldom idle. 
At one period of his student life in Germany he allowed him- 
self only four hours of sleep, and his food at that period often 
consisted of nothing but bread and apples. While in South 
Carolina it was his habit to write at his books until one 
o'clock and often later in the night, and afterwards to rise 
early enough to be in his class-room and deliver his lecture 
from seven to eight o'clock ; always preferring that hour that 
he might have more time during the day for his own work. 



42 LIFE, CHARACTER, AND WRITINGS 

Over the door of his house in New York he had placed "Die 
Studirende Eule" — the owl studying; and on the ceiling 
were painted these words : 

Patria Cara 
Carior Libertas 
Veritas Carissima. 

Over the door of his library hung the panel of a bench saved 
from the fire which destroyed the chapel of South Carolina 
College, on which he had painted the saying of Socrates, 
XAAEIIA TA KAAA—dll noble things are difficult. On the 
seal, which he adopted in his youth, were the words Perfer et 
Sperne. In his library hung what he called his Stella duplex 
— William of Orange and Washington, engravings of whom 
he had arranged and framed upon one card, with, on one side, 
the motto of William of Orange, Scevis tranquillus in undis, 
and on the other (Washington having no motto of his own) 
Tenax et Integer. Another Stella duplex, similarly arranged, 
contained the likenesses of Hampden and Pym : above them 
the words Nulla vestigia retrorsum, and underneath, 

MDCXL. 

Claris Civibus 
Prodis et audacibus 
Heres gratus et compos 
Libertatis expugnatce 
Et defensor. 

In his bedroom he had busts of Plato, Schiller, and Alexander 
Hamilton, whom he greatly admired, and over the mantel- 
piece, his favorite — Hugo Grotius. 

He was very fond of poetry, and when those who loved him 
came, after his death, to examine his papers they found scat- 
tered everywhere through his journals, on scraps of papers, 
and on packages of weightier matters, some little poem, some 
great thought, some beautiful sentiment. His correspondence 
was very extensive, embracing many of the most distinguished 



OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 



43 



men of this country and abroad, Humboldt, Niebuhr, Bunsen, 
Mittermaier, Laboulaye, Bluntschli, Heftier, Von HolzendorfT, 
De Tocqueville, Rolin-Jaequemyns, Pierantoni, and many 
others renowned in letters and science. He enjoyed the 
sprightly letters of bright and refined women, and they were 
always deeply interested in him. His own letters, like his 
conversation, charmed every one with the humor with which 
they abounded, and the instruction which they conveyed. 
His disposition was happy and cheerful, but at times, especially 
when during the war public calamities seemed to threaten his 
country, clouded by an indescribable sadness. From his 
earliest years he formed strong attachments. He had the 
most devoted friends. His love for his mother was most 
touching, and his domestic life was beautiful in its simplicity 
and devotion. As one who knew him best and loved him 
most has truly said, " few men combined so much greatness 
and power with so much loveliness." 

His death was very sudden, and was caused by an affection 
of the heart. He had been unwell for a day or two and re- 
mained at home. His wife was reading to him. It was her 
constant habit to do so, and was one of the greatest enjoyments 
of his life. He interrupted the reading with an expression of 
pain, and almost immediately expired. He was in the seventy- 
third year of his age. 

Dr. Lieber was married on the 21st of September, 1829, 
and left at his death a widow and two sons — Captain Hamil- 
ton Lieber and Major Norman Lieber, both of them officers 
in the Army of the United States. 

Nature gave to Francis Lieber a robust frame. He was 
short in stature, compact, and muscular. In his younger days 
he was noted for his strength. His head was massive. His 
eyes were deep-set, beneath a brow broad and noble. His 
countenance indicated the thoughtful repose and conscious 
power of a great mind. 

Thus have I endeavored with a feeble hand to delineate the 
character of a great man, conspicuous alike for his patriotism 
and attainments, whose writings impressed his thoughts in- 



44 LIFE, CHARACTER, ETC., OF FRANCIS LIEBER. 

delibly upon the age, and, like those of Grotius and Montes- 
quieu, constitute a distinct landmark in the history of public 
law and political science. A man whose learning and intel- 
lectual power have conferred honor upon our country, and 
whose usefulness as a citizen has merited its gratitude. If my 
ability had been equal to my love and reverence for his 
memory, the picture would have been more worthy of him 
and would have better portrayed his noble qualities. But his 
imperishable works are his best memorial, and his fame will 
be secure in the lap of history ; for as he himself said, at the 
unveiling of the Statue of Humboldt, quoting the grand 
words of Pericles, "The whole Earth is the monument 

OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN." 



REMINISCENCES 



OF 



BARTHOLD GEORGE NIEBUHR, 

THE HISTORIAN OF ROME. 



45 






NOTE. 



On Dr. Lieber's return from Greece, in 1822, lie spent some time in Rome, 
where he received much kindness from the historian, Niebuhr, who was then 
the Prussian minister. He afterwards travelled with Niebuhr, was the teacher 
of his son, and was honored with his correspondence. 

After the death of Niebuhr, which occurred in 1831, Lieber published his 
recollections of their conversations, based upon the notes which he had made 
in his Journal. The volume, a duodecimo of 231 pages, was completed for the 
press in May, 1835, was published by Richard Bentley, of London, and was 
dedicated to Mrs. Austin. — (G.) 



46 



REMINISCENCES 

BARTHOLD GEORGE NIEBUHR 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 

Barthold George Niebuhr, the celebrated historian of 
Rome, was the son of Carsten Niebuhr. He was born in 
Copenhagen, August 27, 1776; but, before he had reached 
his second year, his father (a German) received an appoint- 
ment in Germany, in South Ditmarsh, whither he took his 
son. The following account of his early education is derived 
from his biography of his father : 

" He taught me English and French — better, at any rate, 
than they would have been taught by anybody else in such 
a place ; and something of mathematics, in which he would 
have proceeded much farther, had not want of zeal and de- 
sire in me unfortunately destroyed all his pleasure in the 
occupation. One thing indeed was characteristic of his whole 
system of teaching : — as he had no idea how anybody could 
have knowledge of any kind placed before him and not seize 
it with the greatest delight and avidity, and hold to it with 
the steadiest perseverance, he became disinclined to teach 
whenever I appeared inattentive or reluctant to learn. As 
the first instructions I received in Latin — before I had the 
good fortune to become a scholar of the learned and excel- 
lent Jager — were very defective, he helped me, and read with 
me Caesar's Commentaries. Here, again, the peculiar bent of 
his mind showed itself — he always called my attention much 

47 



48 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

more strongly to the geography than the history. The map 
of ancient Gaul, by D'Anville, for whom he had the greatest 
reverence, always lay before us. I was obliged to look out 
every place as it occurred, and to tell its exact situation. His 
instructions had no pretensions to be grammatical; his knowl- 
edge of the language, so far as it went, was gained entirely by 
reading and by looking at it as a whole. He was of opinion 
that a man did not deserve to learn what he had not princi- 
pally worked out for himself; and that a teacher should be 
only a helper to assist the pupil out of otherwise inexplicable 
difficulties. From these causes his attempts to teach me 
Arabic, when he had already lost that facility in speaking it 
without which it is impossible to dispense with grammatical 
instruction, to his disappointment and my shame, did not 
succeed. When I afterwards taught it myself, and sent him 
translations from it, he was greatly delighted. 

" I have the most lively recollection of many descriptions 
of the structure of the universe, and accounts of eastern 
countries, which he used to tell me, instead of fairy tales, 
when he took me on his knee before I went to bed. The 
history of Mohammed ; of the first caliphs, particularly Omar 
and Ali, for whom he had the deepest veneration ; of the 
conquests and spread of Islamism ; of the virtues of the 
heroes of the new faith, and of the Turkish converts, were 
imprinted on my childish imagination in the liveliest colors. 
Historical works on these same subjects were nearly the first 
books that fell into my hands. 

" I recollect, too, that on the Christmas-eve of my tenth 
year, by way of making the day one of peculiar solemnity 
and rejoicing to me, he went to a beautiful chest containing 
his manuscripts, which was regarded by us children, and in- 
deed by the whole household, as a sort of ark of the covenant, 
took out the papers relating to Africa, and read to me from 
them. He had taught me to draw maps, and, with his encour- 
agement and assistance, I soon produced maps of Habesh 
and Sudan. 

" I could not make him a more welcome birthday present 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 



49 



than a sketch of the geography of eastern countries, or trans- 
lations from voyages and travels, executed as might be ex- 
pected from a child. He had originally no stronger desire 
than that I might be his successor as a traveller in the East. 
But the influence of a very tender and anxious mother upon my 
physical training and constitution thwarted his plan almost 
as soon as it was formed. In consequence of her opposition, 
my father afterwards gave up all thoughts of it. 

" The distinguished kindness he had experienced from the 
English, and the services which he had been able to render 
to the East India Company, by throwing light on the naviga- 
tion of the higher part of the Red Sea, led him to entertain 
the idea of sending me, as soon as I was old enough, to India. 
With this scheme, which, plausible as it was, he was afterwards 
as glad to see frustrated as I was myself, many things in the 
education he gave me were intimately connected. He taught 
me, by preference, out of English books, and put English 
works of all sorts into my hands. At a very early age he 
gave me a regular supply of English newspapers — circum- 
stances which I record here, not on account of the powerful 
influence they have had on my maturer life, but as indications 
of his character." 

An intercourse with several distinguished scholars, particu- 
larly J. H. Voss, the celebrated translator of Homer, early 
inspired young Niebuhr with a peculiar love for the classics. 
His father was intimately acquainted with the famous Busch, 
which was the cause of Niebuhr's residence for some time 
in Hamburg, where he acquainted himself with commercial 
affairs. Here, also, he was in constant intercourse with Klop- 
stock, who had a great friendship for the youth. From 1793 
to 1794 he studied law in the University of Kiel; but his in- 
clination for the classics continued. When nineteen years 
old he went to the University of Edinburgh, in order to study 
the natural sciences under the professors of that institution, 
then so famous. He remained one year and a half in Edin- 
burgh, and then travelled over England for six months, and 
obtained an extensive knowledge of the institutions of that 
Vol. I.— 4 



50 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



country, assisted as he was by a memory of whose power the 
present writer, in a long residence with Mr. Niebuhr, has seen 
most surprising proofs. 

When he returned from England he was appointed private 
secretary to the Danish minister of finance, in which situation 
he had an opportunity to examine closely the administration 
of Count A. P. Bernstorff, which, as he himself says, in the 
biography of his father above mentioned, affected essentially 
the direction of his whole life. After a certain time he was 
appointed a director of the bank. In 1801 he witnessed the 
bombardment of Copenhagen. 

The invasion of Germany (which he always loved as his 
true country) by the French affected him much; and his 
translation of the First Philippic of Demosthenes, dedicated 
to the Emperor Alexander, with a remarkable call upon him, 
proves his sentiments. In 1806 he was taken into the Prussian 
service ; but soon after his arrival in Berlin the battle of Jena 
changed the whole condition of the kingdom. 

In Konigsberg, whither he had followed the court, he was 
appointed one of the counsellors who directed public affairs 
under Hardenberg, until the peace of Tilsit. He then took 
an active part in the organization of the Prussian States under 
the minister Stein. In 1808 he was sent to Holland on a 
special mission, where he remained fourteen months, during 
which he always contrived to save some time from his public 
occupations for study. On his return to Berlin he was made 
privy-counsellor of state, and a temporary officer in the de- 
partment of finances. In 18 10, when the University of Berlin 
was established, his friends persuaded him to deliver his first 
lectures on Roman history, which were received with such 
interest by the hearers, and so much commended by men like 
Buttmann, Heindorf, Spalding, and Savigny, that he published, 
in 1811* and 1812, the two volumes of his Roman history. 

When the Prussians rose against the French he established 
a journal at Berlin, under the title of the Prussian Correspond- 
ent ; and in 18 14 was sent again to Holland to negotiate a 
loan with England. On his return in the same year to Berlin 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 5 1 

he lost his wife, and soon after his father ; and, to divert his 
mind under his losses, he planned the biography of his father, 
and edited, together with Buttmann and Heindorf, the frag- 
ments of Fronto found in Verona by Angelo Maio. 

In 1 8 16 he married a second time, and was appointed 
Prussian minister at the Papal see; and on his passage through 
Verona to Rome he discovered, in the cathedral library of the 
former city, the Institutions of Gaius. The chief object of 
his mission was to arrange with the Pope the reorganization 
of the Catholic church in the Prussian dominions, which was 
finally settled by the Prussian concordate when Prince Har- 
denberg went to Rome in 1822. The result is the bull De 
Salute Animarum. Pius VII., himself a lover of science, had 
a great regard for Niebuhr. Even before he went to Italy his 
attention had been directed to the importance of the Codices 
rescripti, and the discovery of Gaius added to his interest in 
the subject, so that he spent much time in Rome in an accu- 
rate examination of the manuscripts of the Vatican library; 
but when Angelo Maio was appointed keeper of the library, 
a very ill-placed jealousy on his part towards Niebuhr pre- 
vented the latter from continuing freely his learned labors, the 
result of which he made known to the world in his collection 
of unedited fragments of Cicero and Livy (Rome, 1820) ; and, 
at a later period, when a good understanding existed again 
between Maio and Niebuhr, produced by the disinterested 
frankness of the latter, he took an active part in Maio's 
edition of the precious fragments of Cicero's De Republica. 

His residence in Rome gave him an intimate knowledge of 
the localities of the city, and a clearer conception of its ancient 
character and history. The writer considers him more in- 
timately acquainted than any antiquarian of the place with the 
relics of the ancient city; and to walk with him over the 
ancient Forum was like passing along with a guide from 
classic times, so clear was the whole scene before his eye. 
His knowledge in this branch appears in his essay On the 
Increase and Decline of Ancient, and the Restoration of 
Modern Rome, which is printed in the first volume of the 



52 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

Description of Rome, by Bunsen and Platner : it is also pub- 
lished in his minor works. More of the same kind from his 
pen will appear in the succeeding volumes of the interesting 
work just mentioned. In this period he also wrote some 
Latin treatises in the Atti delV Accidentia di Archeologia, on the 
Greek inscriptions brought by Gau from Nubia, and a German 
treatise on the age of Curtius and Petronius, in the Trans- 
actions of the Academy of Berlin. 

In 1823 he left Rome, and before his return to Germany 
went to Naples, where he devoted some hours every day to 
the collation of the best manuscript of the grammarian 
Charisius in the library of that city. In Switzerland he re- 
mained six weeks in St. Gall, examining laboriously the manu- 
scripts of the library; and if he expected more than he 
actually found, he at least discovered some remains of the 
latest Roman poetry — that is, poems of Merobaudes. 

He settled in Bonn, where the Prussian government had 
established a university. He wrote here, in the winter of 
1823-24, that portion which is finished of the third volume 
of his History of Rome. He was appointed a member of the 
council of state, whose sessions he attended at Berlin. The 
writer entertains a grateful remembrance of a visit which Mr. 
Niebuhr paid him at this time, when imprisoned in conse- 
quence of a political prosecution, and of his release from 
confinement, obtained through Mr. Niebuhr's intercession. 
The kindness was the greater, as Mr. Niebuhr's own political 
principles were looked on with some suspicion by the men in 
power. 

After his return to Bonn he determined to remodel the two 
first volumes of his Roman History before publishing the 
third, as further researches had changed his views in many 
respects. He now also began to lecture again, and the fees 
paid for attendance he devoted to prizes for scientific questions, 
or to the support of poor students. The first volume (second 
edition) appeared in 1827, and was so well received that the 
third edition appeared in 1828. The second volume was, in 
its new state, finished only a few months before his death, 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 53 

and in the preface he says that the melancholy influence of 
recent political events upon his mind appears in the mode of 
the execution of the concluding part of the work. That part 
of the third volume which he had finished, and which carries 
the history of Rome from the Licinian law to the last quarter 
of the fifth century, will probably soon appear. 

Niebuhr's activity was great. Every scholar will easily 
perceive in his History the extensive and unremitted labor 
which it required ; and, towards the close of his life, he added 
to his other occupations the task of preparing a new edition 
of the Byzantine Historians. He himself made the beginning 
with a critical edition of Agathias, and obtained active col- 
laborators, while he superintended the execution of his plan. 
At the same time he made a collection of his treatises in the 
Transactions of the Academy of Berlin, and in the Rhenish 
Museum, which he had edited, together with Prof. Brandes, 
since 1827. His reputation is spread over Europe, and in 
America he is equally honored. He died January 2, 183 1, at 
a period of his life which afforded reason for expecting much 
from him. His wife died on the nth of the same month. 



54 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Whatever contributes to show with clearer delineation 
the character, dispositions, and intellectual ability of a man 
like Mr. Niebuhr, the historian, whose labors have already 
exercised a powerful influence upon an important branch of 
human science, and will produce a growing effect on every 
future generation, will be welcomed, I trust, by all who love 
knowledge and truth. With this view I give the following 
pages to the public. 

At various times, since the death of that great scholar, the 
idea has occurred to my mind that those who enjoyed the 
rare good fortune of living on terms of intimacy with him 
would do an essential service to science were they to publish 
all they know with regard to his studies, opinions, and the 
more important occurrences in his life. Having lately had 
occasion to search among my papers, I met with so many 
notes relating to my intercourse with him, that I resolved at 
once to collect from them all that appeared to be of general 
interest, and of which the publication would neither betray 
his confidence nor injure the private interest of any person. 

From the succeeding pages it will be seen that Mr. Niebuhr 
received me into his house at an age and period of my life in 
which no candid reader will expect that judicious foresight 
which was requisite to note down carefully all the most im- 
portant facts and views stated at various times by him, even 
if my natural disposition had been to make so systematic a 
collection of table-talk. 

Disappointed in my most ardent desires, I had returned 
from Greece, mourning as an enthusiastic youth is apt to 
mourn when his fondest hopes are first nipped by cold reality. 



INTRODUCTION. 



55 



It was at this period that Mr. Niebuhr, who had known neither 
my family nor anything of myself, received me as the. kindest 
friend. He said to me, in language which has sunk deep into 
my heart, " Do not be discouraged : come to me, and recover 
yourself in my house." On another occasion, when he found 
that I had given up a plan of visiting the Vatican in company 
with several friends in order to finish something which he 
had wished me to do, he said, " I am displeased with you : 
you ought to have found ere this that I would have you live 
with me as with a brother." In constant intercourse with 
such a friend and benefactor, with such a guide in Rome, 
where all her art, and history, and beauty burst upon my soul 
as a new world, of whose character I had but faintly dreamt, 
but which to know I had always longed, it will be easily 
understood that my mind was often too much occupied, and 
the life I lived too intense, to find time and patience to survey 
it calmly, and record all I had seen or heard regularly. I 
kept a journal, indeed, but not unfrequently have I omitted to 
make notes of what now would be most interesting. 

I disclaim, therefore, in the following pages anything like 
a complete record of every interesting or important sentiment 
that Mr. Niebuhr stated during my residence with him, or 
even of all the most important facts or opinions. Besides this 
deficiency in my journal, it is necessary for me to mention that 
my papers were subsequently seized by the police, and have 
undergone its penetrating criticism. Some have been lost by 
this process, others by my wandering life since that time. 
Still I hope that those which have remained will be judged 
of sufficient interest, and enable the reader to form a more 
accurate idea of the distinguished man to whom they relate, 
as they will also, in some instances, afford him an interesting 
insight into the various causes which led to his great work, 
or facilitated its perfection. In short, I feel assured they will 
be found of psychological interest both as to the man and the 
scholar. 

I might have grouped the different aphorisms under some 
general heads ; but even this arrangement seemed to me to 



56 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

indicate a promise of giving something complete ; or, at any 
rate, it appeared to me to deprive the various sentiments of 
that desultory character which they ought to retain in order to 
remain perfectly natural : as they were gathered so I give them. 

Whoever knows me will know also that I am not capable 
of altering or coloring when I promise to give the words of 
a man whom I cannot recollect but with the mingled feelings 
of sadness, veneration, and gratitude, which I owe to him as 
my best friend. To those of my readers who do not know 
me personally, I can only offer what they will find in the work 
itself, and in the character I may have gained with them by 
previous publications, as my guarantee for the truth of what 
I am now going to record. It is that alone which can give 
any value to these pages. Most of what the reader will find 
is literal translation; a few circumstances or sentiments I have 
stated from memory, when they were of a character indelibly 
to impress themselves upon my mind. 

There are many other statements which I recollect with 
considerable certainty, but I abstain from giving them, lest I 
might deviate from rigid truth. Some of the most interesting 
sentiments I have left out, because they might affect persons 
whose interest it was surely not Mr. Niebuhr's wish to affect : 
nor have I given anything which I could imagine that he 
himself, in my situation, would have suppressed, those state- 
ments only excepted which show his own excellent character. 
I need not add that it would have been presumptuous in me 
to record only those opinions of Mr. Niebuhr which happen 
to coincide with my own. I am desirous of affording to the 
reader the opportunity to form a more vivid picture of him ; 
my own views have no connection with this subject. 

In order to understand the precise character of the subse- 
quent sentiments, it will be necessary to know in what relation 
I stood to Mr. Niebuhr. This will be seen from the following 
account, which is the more gratifying to my heart, as I con- 
sider it a tribute to his goodness which it has long been my 
anxious desire to pay. 

I went in the year 1821 to Greece, led by youthful ardor to 



INTRODUCTION. 57 

assist the oppressed and struggling descendants of that people 
whom all civilized nations love and admire. After having 
suffered many hardships and bitter disappointments, and 
finding it impossible either to fight or to procure the means 
for a bare subsistence, however small, I resolved in 1822 to 
return, as so many other Philhellenes were obliged to do. 
The small sum which I had obtained by selling nearly every 
article I possessed was rapidly dwindling away : I should 
have died of hunger had I remained longer. Before, there- 
fore, my money was entirely exhausted, I took passage at 
Missolonghi in a small vessel bound for Ancona. One scudo 
and a half was all that remained in my purse after I had paid 
the commander of the tartan — a price which was very high 
for the poor accommodation, or rather absence of all accom- 
modation, but only natural considering my helpless state, 
and that the commander of the vessel was a Greek. We 
had a rough passage, during which we were obliged to seek 
shelter in the bay of Gorzola, on the coast of Dalmatia; 
and on Easter-eve we entered the port of Ancona. I remem- 
bered having heard from a fellow-student of mine in Germany 
that he intended to abandon the pandects and follow the fine 
arts : if he had done so, I concluded he would be by this time 
in Rome. In a letter, therefore, to one of the first artists in 
that city, whom I knew only by reputation, I enclosed another 
to my friend, hoping that the former might have happened to 
hear of him. In this letter I asked for money to enable me 
to defray the expenses of the quarantine : should I be unable 
to do this, the captain who had brought me would have been 
bound to pay my expenses, and I should have been obliged 
to pay him by serving on board his vessel. This regulation 
is fair enough. Caution prohibits anything being touched 
which comes from persons in quarantine ; the establishment, 
therefore, must furnish articles of comfort and sustenance on 
credit, which would be often abused if the quarantine estab- 
lishment had not the right to look to the captain, and the 
captain to the passenger. 

There was then a fair chance that I should have to work 



58 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

for some time as a sailor on board a Greek vessel, until we 
should go to anchor in some large port, where I might find 
a consul of my own nation, to whom I could disclose my 
situation, and who would feel disposed to assist me until I 
could obtain from home the means of returning. But my 
friend happened to be at Rome and to have money, and, with 
the promptness of a German student, sent me all he possessed 
at the time. 

Unfortunately an old woman who had come with us from 
Greece died shortly after we entered into quarantine, and we 
were sentenced to full forty days' contumacia. At length the 
day of liberty arrived. My intention was, of course, to go to 
Rome; and no sooner had we pratica — as the Italians so 
justly call this permission to go where you like, all confine- 
ment being but a life in theory — than I went to the police- 
office to ask for the necessary signature to my passport for 
Rome. 

My passport happened to be in wretched disorder. When 
I resolved on going to Greece, I lived in Dresden, not un- 
watched, as I had but lately left the prison, where I had been 
confined for political reasons. It was impossible for me to 
obtain a passport for any length of time, and particularly for 
a journey to France ; yet I had to make my way to Marseilles, 
where I intended to embark for Greece. I took, therefore, a 
passport for a journey to Nuremberg, and for the short period 
of a fortnight only. Once in possession of this paper, I 
emptied an inkstand over the words which declared it to. be 
limited to so short a space of time. I then had it signed in 
every small place on my route to Nuremberg, so that it finally 
looked formidable enough. When I arrived there, I accounted 
for the defacing ink-blot by the awkwardness of the police- 
officer of some precious bureau, and got the paper signed for 
Munich. There I chose the time when the chief officers of 
my legation would probably be gone to dinner to have it 
farther signed for Switzerland, pretending to be in a great 
hurry. It was signed. I passed through Switzerland; and 
on the French frontier I received, according to rule, a pro- 



INTRODUCTION. 59 

visionary passport, the other being taken from me to be sent 
to Paris ; from thence it would be forwarded to any place I 
should indicate. It will be easily supposed that I never cared 
to receive back the original passport, and it was the provisional 
French paper with which I had to make my way through the 
police-office at Ancona. 

There was thus an immense gap in my passport; in addition 
to which, the police-officer, a very polite man, declared that but 
a few days previously they had received an order from Rome 
not to sign the passport of any person coming from Greece 
except for a direct journey home. I was thunderstruck. 

"Would you prevent me from seeing Rome?" said I, prob- 
ably with an expression which showed the intenseness of my 
disappointment, for the officer replied in a kind tone, " You 
see, carissimo mio, I cannot do otherwise. You are a Prussian, 
and I must direct your passport home to Germany. I will 
direct it to Florence ; your minister there may direct it back 
to Rome. Or I will direct it to any place in Tuscany which 
you may choose; for through Tuscany you must travel in 
order to reach Germany." 

I think I never felt more wretched than on leaving the 
police-office. I had sailed for Greece from Marseilles, and 
had now returned to Ancona. Had I made my way round 
Rome without seeing the Eternal City — without seeing her 
perhaps ever in my life ? 

A Danish gentleman, who had gone to Greece for the 
same purpose as myself, who had sailed with me from Mis- 
solonghi, and with whom I now had taken lodgings, felt 
equally disappointed. We went home and threw ourselves 
on the only bed in our room in silent despair. Could we 
venture to go to Rome without passports ? We should cer- 
tainly be impeded on our way by gendarmes, particularly as 
our shabby dress was far from removing all suspicion from 
these watchful servants of public safety. We could think of 
no means of obtaining the object of our most ardent wishes, 
and yet we could not resolve to abandon it. Thus lying and 
meditating, I took up, mechanically, a map of Italy. We 



60 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

gazed at it, and our disappointment became but the keener 
while the classic ground with its thousand associations was 
thus strikingly represented before our eyes. Suddenly an 
idea struck us which showed one possible means of realizing 
our almost hopeless desires. 

The map pointed out to us how near the south-western 
frontier line of Tuscany approaches to Rome. The road 
from Ancona to Orbitello, a Tuscan place, we thought was 
nearly the same as that to Rome. Once near the city, we 
did not doubt but that we might contrive to get into it; and 
once there, means would be found to remain there. 

I started back immediately to the police-office, pretended 
to have received a letter which informed me of a friend of 
mine being at Orbitello,. and requested the officer to direct 
my passport to that place. " Orbitello," I added, " is in Tus- 
cany, you know." Italians generally, as is well known, are 
exceedingly poor geographers ; and the gentleman upon 
whom at this moment the gratification of my fondest wishes 
depended inquired of another officer in an adjoining room 
whether Orbitello was in Tuscany or belonged to the Papal 
territory. I went into the next room, showed with a trem- 
bling hand that Orbitello was situated within the color which 
distinguished on the map Tuscany from the other states of 
Italy — it was green, I recollect well — and, to my infinite joy, 
this gentleman replied, " Yes, sir, it belongs to Tuscany." 
"Then direct the passport of the two gentlemen to that 
place," was the delightful answer; and I hurried away with 
it from the office, not to betray my emotion. 

Whether my anxiety to get to Rome had won us the good 
graces of these gentlemen of the police, or whatever else may 
have been the cause, certain it is that they treated us with 
much kindness ; though I should have blamed no one for 
keeping at a respectful distance from us, shabby as our whole 
exterior was. The officer whom I had had the good luck to 
teach geography extended his politeness even so far as to in- 
vite us to take a ride with him, which we, however, prudently 
declined. 



INTRODUCTION. 6 1 

A vetturino was hired, and we left Ancona as soon as 
possible. At Nepi we had to inform the coachman that we 
intended to go to Rome, and not to Orbitello, as the roads 
divide a few miles beyond Nepi, at the Colonetta. A trifle 
smoothed over his objections; and when we were near Rome 
we jumped out of the carriage, directed the vetturino to retain 
our knapsacks until we should call for them, and entered the 
Porta del Popolo as if the porticoes of the churches near it 
and the obelisk were nothing new to us. My heart beat as 
we approached the tame-looking sentinel of the Papal troops 
more than it ever had beaten at the approach of any grenadier 
of the enemy; and the delight I experienced when I had safely 
passed him, and felt and saw I was in Rome, is indescribable. 

I found the friend whom I have already mentioned : he 
shared his room with me. After I had somewhat recovered 
from the first excitement caused by the pleasure of seeing 
him, and a rapid glance at the wonders of Rome, and the 
consciousness of treading her hallowed ground, I reflected 
on my situation. I could not reside at Rome for any length 
of time without having permission from the police. This, 
again, I could not obtain without a certificate from the min- 
ister of my country that my passport was in order. The 
very contrary was the case, as the reader knows ; in fact, I 
was ashamed to show my passport at the Prussian legation. 
I resolved, therefore, on disclosing frankly my situation to 
the minister, Mr. Niebuhr, hoping that a scholar who had 
written the history of Rome could not be so cruel as to 
drive me from Rome without allowing me time to see and 
study it. Yet I did not go to the Prussian legation without 
some fear; for should I be unsuccessful, it was clear that I 
should be deprived of the residence even of a few weeks at 
this most interesting of all spots on the face of the globe, 
which I might have enjoyed before the police regulations 
would have been applied to me. I knew nothing personally 
of Mr. Niebuhr, nor whether he would consider himself au- 
thorized to grant my wishes, however easy it might be for 
him to understand all their ardor. He knew nothing of 



62 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

me ; and then, how should I appear before him ? Certainly 
not in a very prepossessing condition. 

The Prussian minister resided at the Palazzo Orsini, or, as 
it is equally often called, Teatro di Marcello ; for the palace 
is on and within the remains of the theatre which Augustus 
built and dedicated to his nephew Marcellus. My heart grew 
heavier the nearer I approached this venerable pile, to which 
a whole history is attached, from the times of antiquity, 
through the middle ages, when it served as a castle to its 
proud inmates, and down to the most recent times. The 
idea that I might be disbelieved prevented me for a moment 
from proceeding any farther to that building, under an en- 
graving of which in my possession I now find that I after- 
wards wrote the words, " In questa rovina retrovai la vita" 

I did not see the minister: he was busily engaged; but the 
secretary of the legation received me with a humanity which 
made my heart thrill, heightened as was its effect by the con- 
trast with all I had lately experienced. I told my story 
plainly ; he went to the minister, and returned with a paper 
written in his own hand, on showing which the Papal police 
were to give me the necessary permission to reside in Rome : 
" for," said he, " it is clear that without means you cannot 
proceed, and as you are probably in want of funds necessary 
for the moment, the minister has directed me to hand you 
this as a loan. You can take it without any unpleasant feel- 
ing, as it is part of a sum which Prince Henry (brother to 
the reigning king, then residing in Rome) has placed at the 
disposal of Mr. Niebuhr for the assistance of gentlemen who 
might return from Greece. Prince Henry of course does 
not wish to know the names of those who have been assisted 
by his means ; so you need feel no scruples." 

I had to make yet another request. I was anxious to read 
Mr. Niebuhr's History of Rome in Rome, and had been un- 
successful in obtaining a copy ; I therefore asked whether I 
might borrow one from Mr. Niebuhr's library. Here my 
frankness embarrassed the secretary, and he very justly ob- 
served that the minister, after all, knew as yet nothing of 



INTRODUCTION. 63 

me. I felt the propriety of his remark, and answered that I 
was so desirous of reperusing the work just at this moment, 
that I had considered it due to myself to make so bold a 
request, though I was aware I had nothing upon which I 
could found any hope of success except the honesty of my 
purpose. He advised me to ask the minister myself, which 
I might do the following day at a certain hour when he had 
expressed a wish to see me. 

When I went the next morning at the appointed time, as I 
thought, Mr. Niebuhr met me on the stairs, being on the point 
of going out. He received me with kindness and affability, 
returned with me to his room, made me relate my whole story, 
and appeared much pleased that I could give him some in- 
formation respecting Greece, which seemed to be not void of 
interest to him. Our conversation lasted several hours, when 
he broke off, asking me to return to dinner. I hesitated in 
accepting the invitation, which he seemed unable to under- 
stand. He probably thought that a person in my situation 
ought to be glad to receive an invitation of this kind ; and, in 
fact, any one might feel gratified in being asked to dine with 
him, especially in Rome. When I saw that my motive for 
declining so flattering an invitation was not understood, I said, 
throwing a glance at my dress, " Really, sir, I am not in a 
state to dine with an excellency.'' He stamped with his foot, 
and said, with some animation, " Are diplomatists always be- 
lieved to be so cold-hearted ! I am the same that I was in 
Berlin when I delivered my lectures : your remark was 
wrong." 1 No argument could be urged against such reasons. 

I recollect that dinner with delight. His conversation, 
abounding in rich and various knowledge and striking obser- 
vations ; his great kindness ; the acquaintance I made with 
Mrs. Niebuhr; his lovely children, who were so beautiful that 
when, at a later period, I used to walk with them, the women 
would exclaim, " Ma guardate, gnardate, che angclif — a good 
dinner (which I had not enjoyed for a long time) in a high 



1 Das war kleinlich were his words. 



64 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

vaulted room, the ceiling of which was painted in the style 
of Italian palaces ; a picture by the mild Francia close by ; 
the sound of the murmuring fountain in the garden, and the 
refreshing beverages in coolers, which I had seen, but the day 
before, represented in some of the most masterly pictures of 
the Italian schools ; — in short, my consciousness of being at 
dinner with Niebuhr in his house in Rome — and all this 
in so bold relief to my late and not unfrequently disgusting 
sufferings, would have rendered the moment one of almost 
perfect enjoyment and happiness, had it not been for an an- 
noyance which, I have no doubt, will appear here a mere 
trifle. However, reality often widely differs from its descrip- 
tion on paper. Objects of great effect for the moment become 
light as air, and others, shadows and vapors in reality, swell 
into matters of weighty consideration when subjected to the 
recording pen — a truth, by the way, which applies to our 
daily life, as well as to transactions of powerful effect — and 
it is, therefore, the sifting tact which constitutes one of the 
most necessary, yet difficult, requisites for a sound historian. 

My dress consisted, as yet, of nothing better than a pair of 
unblacked shoes, such as are not unfrequently worn in the 
Levant ; a pair of socks of coarse Greek wool ; the brownish 
pantaloons frequently worn by sea-captains in the Mediterra- 
nean ; and a blue frock-coat, through which two balls had 
passed — a fate to which the blue cloth cap had likewise been 
exposed. The socks were exceedingly short, hardly covering 
my ankles, and so indeed were the pantaloons ; so that, when 
I was in a sitting position, they refused me the charity of 
meeting, with an obstinacy which reminded me of the irrecon- 
cilable temper of the two brothers in Schiller's Bride of Mes- 
sina. There happened to dine with Mr. Niebuhr another lady 
besides Mrs. Niebuhr; and my embarrassment was not small 
when, towards the conclusion of the dinner, the children rose 
x and played about on the ground, and I saw my poor extrem- 
ities exposed to all the frank remarks of quick-sighted child- 
hood ; fearing as I did, at the same time, the still more trying 
moments after dinner, when I should be obliged to take coffee 



INTRODUCTION. 65 

near the ladies, unprotected by the kindly shelter of the table. 
Mr. Niebuhr observed perhaps that something embarrassed 
me, and he redoubled, if possible, his kindness. 

After dinner he proposed a walk, and asked the ladies to 
accompany us. I pitied them ; but as a gentleman of their 
acquaintance had dropped in by this time, who gladly accepted 
the offer to walk with us, they were spared the mortification 
of taking my arm. Mr. Niebuhr, probably remembering 
what I had said of my own appearance in the morning, put 
his arm under mine, and thus walked with me for a long time. 
After our return, when I intended to take leave, he asked me 
whether I wished for anything. I said I should like to borrow 
his History. He had but one copy, to which he had added 
notes, and which he did not wish, therefore, to lend out of his 
house ; but he said he would get a copy for me. As to his 
other books, he gave me the key of his library to take what- 
ever I liked. He laughed when I returned laden with books, 
and dismissed me in the kindest manner. 

A short time after, I had the pleasure of accompanying him 
and Mr. Bunsen, then his secretary, now minister in his place, 
to Tivoli, where we remained a few days, residing in a house 
which belonged to Cardinal Consalvi ; and, but a few days 
after, he invited me to live with him, assisting, if agreeable to 
me, in the education of his son Marcus. I thus became the 
constant companion of this rarely-gifted man at meals and on 
his daily walks after dinner, which were the most instructive 
hours of my life. He also gave to the Danish gentleman 
whom I have mentioned the means of returning to his own 
country. 

Mr. Niebuhr proposed to me to write an account of my 
journey in Greece ; which I at first hesitated to do, as I could 
give only a lamentable picture ; but he showed me how neces- 
sary it would be to present a true sketch of the actual state 
of affairs in that unhappy country, both for the Greeks and 
those young men who might feel disposed to pursue the same 
course that I had myself done. I objected besides to the task, 
as I had little else to relate than the result of sad experience, 
Vol. I.— 5 



66 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

and should thus tear open wounds which had hardly begun 
to heal. However, he assured me that I should feel much 
better satisfied after I had once performed the labor. I went 
to work, therefore, and what I had written in the afternoon or 
evening I read after breakfast to him and Mrs. Niebuhr in 
the garden. His advice throughout the progress of the work 
was of the greatest value to me. 1 

During the summer I accompanied Mr. Niebuhr and his 
family to Albano, where we resided for some time; and in 
March, 1823, when he quitted the embassy at Rome, he took 
me with him to Naples ; whence we returned in the month of 
May to Rome, which we left in about a week. By way of 
Florence, Pisa, and Bologna, we went to the Tyrol ; and in 
Innspruck I took leave of that family with whom alone I then 
considered my existence tolerable. Mr. Niebuhr went by way 
of Switzerland, where he passed six weeks at St. Gall to ex- 
amine the manuscripts of its library, on his way to Bonn. 

Mr. Niebuhr honored me with his correspondence ; and 
when, after my return to Berlin, I was again imprisoned, he, 
being called to the capital to assist in the council of state then 
held, paid me a visit at Koepnick, 2 the place of my confine- 
ment. I have to acknowledge this act of kindness with the 
greater gratitude, as he himself was at that time perhaps not 
looked upon without some degree of political distrust. I have 
reason to believe that I owe my second liberation greatly to 
his exertions. 

A great effort was made during this session of the council 
of state to establish a national bank; and Mr. Niebuhr, abhor- 
ring the stock-jobbing spirit then so universally spread over 
Europe, and believing that a national bank would greatly in- 
crease this evil, and be but a tempting and ready means for 
ruinous money transactions of government, strained every 



1 The work was published under the title Journal of my Residence in Greece, 
Leipzig, 1823 ; and a Dutch translation of it, under the transformed and catching 
title The German Anacharsis, Amsterdam, 1823. 

2 A small town, about eight miles from Berlin. 



INTRODUCTION. 67 

nerve to prevent a bank. He succeeded ; and when the 
memorable commercial revolution of 1825 took place, he 
congratulated himself on having prevented still greater mis- 
chief in Prussia by his exertions against a bank. In a letter 
to Count Bernstorff, then minister of foreign affairs, dated 
February 22, 1826, which he sent me open, as a letter of 
recommendation to be delivered if I should pursue a certain 
plan I had communicated to him, 1 he said, after having ex- 
pressed his acknowledgment for a favor bestowed upon him 
by government : " I make bold to believe myself entitled to 
some small favor, even if for no other reason than that I 
have prevented the establishment of the bank. What would 
the state and public not have suffered had that project been 
executed ! How many more families would have been ruined !" 
The favor of which he speaks was nothing else than a more 
convenient arrangement of the payment of his salary, as he 
had suffered considerable loss by the failure of a house in 
which he had placed most of his funds. 

When I resided in London, the university of that city was 
in course of organization, and I intended to apply for the 
chair of the German and Northern languages. Before I had 
made, however, any proper application, I was induced to go 
to America. In the mean time, I had written to Germany 
for testimonials by which I might prove my fitness for the 
desired professorship. Mr. Niebuhr promptly sent me the de- 
sired paper, expressing his opinion in terms which gave me 
the greatest pleasure, though I never had occasion to use it. 
The letter in which he sent it, and which is dated March 
23, 1827, contains the following passage, which may not be 
uninteresting with regard to a more accurate knowledge of 
himself, as well as in a general view : 

" The enclosed contains the recommendation, which I send 
you with great pleasure, as it agrees with my conscience as 
much as my wishes for your success agree with my heart ; 
may it be useful to you in some way or other ! Competition 



1 The letter was not delivered . 



68 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

will be great ; and gentlemen will not be wanting who have 
the support of present and influential friends. In general, I 
trust to your good star, which has so far never abandoned 
you ; though in this special case you may be unsuccessful, 

"As I understand, two very different elements are active in 
the erection of the London University — the Whigs and Radi- 
cals. Both belong to a time that has passed. The first do 
not know precisely what they want, except power and inde- 
pendence upon government, in the sense of the old barons, 
only reduced and applied to our own time: 1 their property is 
their idol. 

They have as miserable a contempt towards foreigners, es- 
pecially towards us Germans, as the Tories. This I say in 
general ; yet there are many exceptions, and most of my friends 
in England are Whigs. By this time you will know the Radi- 
cals : free of many prejudices of the two other parties, less 
insolent towards foreign countries, yet they show less justice 
towards us, in particular, than to other foreign nations. 
Their political economy is no deep wisdom ; 2 yet they feel at 
least some interest in the welfare of the million, though they 
restrict this interest to their physical welfare. This, however, 
is much in these times of egotism — the cancer of which Eng- 
land is dying. Mr. , who will be an influential person in 

the university matters, belongs, to speak honestly, to this party; 

so does Mr. (whom you will find in the counting-house 

of his company, No. — , street). Go to both with my 

most pressing recommendations ; both are violent political 



1 The reader will remember when Mr. Niebuhr wrote the letter ; at present, 
the name Whig signifies something different. Besides, it must not be forgotten, 
that Mr. Niebuhr, though an attentive observer of his own time as it passed on, 
had received many impressions when the Whigs stood in a still different position 
from what they occupied in 1827. In general, I can only say, that many readers, 
though far from subscribing to the modern political inconsistencies (each period 
has its own), will think that Mr. Niebuhr, in some cases, looked back upon past 
times with too much fondness, thus undervaluing the present time, as is not 
unfrequently the case with historians. 

2 1st eine schale weisheit are the words of the original. 



INTRODUCTION. 69 

economists, so take a little care what you say. My name 
may also, perhaps, be of use with Mr. Brougham.: try to be- 
come acquainted with him ; I know you will make him soon 
feel interested in you. Endeavor to become acquainted with 
Mr. Grote, who is engaged on a Greek History ; he, too, will 
receive you well if you take him my regards. 1 If you become 
better acquainted with him, it is worth your while to obtain 
the proof-sheets of his work, in order to translate it : I expect 
a great deal from this production, and will get you here a pub- 
lisher. If the Marquis of Lansdowne has it in his power to be 
useful to you, go by all means to him : my name, I feel sure, 
will be of use with him. You ought to look around for other 
works besides that of Mr. Grote ; for instance, the Journey to 
Cyrenaica will probably find no other translator. Journeys 
of this kind, which contain inscriptions, etc., would meet with 
publishers in Germany, especially if a philologer — for instance 
myself — would add some notes and a preface : but for this it 
would be necessary to have the original. If you will send the 
inscriptions of the Journey in Cyrenaica, but copied in the 
most careful possible way, with what the author says, written 
on the thinnest letter-paper, and husbanding the room, directed 
to Mr. Weber, in Bonn, and inside to the Privy-counsellor 
Niebuhr, for the Rhenish Museum, I can offer you two fred- 
erics-d'or for each sheet which the inscriptions and translations 
with my notes may occupy. But they must be most carefully 
copied ! You would no doubt find some one with whose aid 
you might compare them. Give always the titles with great 
accuracy. I wish to know how the undertaking of Messrs. 
Hare and Thirlwood proceeds. Room is wanting to write 
more : indeed, my time, too, is limited. For five quarters of 
a year I have worked at my History with an effort which has 
nearly exhausted my strength : I find it difficult now to con- 
tinue ;" etc. 

Before I embarked for America I communicated to Mr. 



1 I had already become acquainted with that gentleman through the kindness 
of Mrs. Austin. 



j REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

Niebuhr my wish to enter into a connection with the best 
German paper ; and in Boston I received a long letter from 
him, dated September 13, 1827, of which the following are 
extracts : 

" I have received your farewell letter from London, my 
dear friend, and, via Hamburg, the letter which you wrote 
at sea. This shows me that you have safely arrived in the 
New World, though you have not added anything on this 
point. From New York you will have gone on good roads 
and in coaches, probably very different from those which are 
described by former travellers, to Boston, where I and all my 
family not only wish from all our hearts, but confidently hope, 
that you will be happy, as far as this is possible in a foreign 
and not inspiring country. I approve of your resolution to 
go to America so entirely, that had you been able to ask my 
advice beforehand, I should have unqualifiedly urged you to 
go ; for there is little happiness in England for him who does 
not stand in the centre of the briskest activity — who, as a 
foreigner must do, has but the looking on. The New Eng- 
land states in which you live are indeed worthy of the name, 
which, south of the Potomac, would not be befitting. It is 
England without any aristocracy and tradition, active and 
busy only in the material world; hence without beautiful 
illusions, but also without English political hypocrisy. Only 
beware that you do not fall into an idolatry of the country 
and that state of things which is so dazzling because it shows 
the material world in a favorable light. You are able to do 
this if you will be watchful over yourself: you have judgment 
and philosophical tact enough to protect yourself. Remain 
a German, and without counting hour and day, yet say to 
yourself that the hour and day will come when you will be 
able to return. 

" Agreeably to your desire to retain some literary connec- 
tion with Germany, I wrote to Baron Cotta, of whom you 
also have thought. As the Allgemeine Zeitung has no 
correspondent in America, I counted upon a favorable re- 
ception; and I have not been disappointed. Baron Cotta 



INTRODUCTION. yi 

offers you to correspond for, I, the Allgemeine Zeitung; 2, 
the Morgenblatt; 3, the Kunstblatt; 4, the Literary Gazette; 
5, the Polytechnic Journal; 6, the Political Annals; and, 7, 
the Ausland, a journal solely destined for news of foreign 
countries. . . . 

" In regard to your correspondence for the Allgemeine 
Zeitung, I will undertake to give you some directions, as 
nearly all correspondents of this paper (if not all without 
exception) mistake their proper point of view. I almost feel 
tempted to write a dissertation on that point, had I the time 
for it; but I am pressed indeed. Therefore abstract for your- 
self, and may it suffice in concrete, that the correspondence 
from the United States must be twofold : A, on Home affairs, 

B, on Foreign affairs. Ad. A. It has to represent, a y the 

state of things, b y events. As respects a, I think that exten- 
sive statistical and ethnographic accounts belong more prop- 
erly to larger collections — for instance, the Political Annals. 
But moral and personal relations, briefly stated, belong to 
the paper: for instance, information respecting the persons 
who compose the government ; on the relations between the 
different states ; whether there are any, and if so, whether 
increasing, collisions between them ; powers and interests 
which prepare great events and changes ; the relations to 
foreign countries, etc. — b, the events to be described are the 
general ones of the Union, and those of the single states. 
Under this head do not only belong political events, properly 
speaking, but also legislative acts ; and not only general fed- 
eral legislation, but also that of single states (for instance, 
when a state changes its constitution or its civil or criminal 
laws); respecting the federal government, changes, new regu- 
lations in the army or navy, besides single statistical notices, 
particularly comparative ones, which show the material in- 
crease ; censuses, etc. Single anecdotes belong more prop- 
erly to the Morgenblatt. B. This correspondence must 

comprise the neighboring British provinces, as well as Mexico 
and South America. Pay especial attention to the former, 
whence we receive so few descriptions by tourists. You must 



72 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



glean from papers and pamphlets, which reach Europe rarely, 
except when they are sent to some dozen people in England. 
Here, too, statistics are of the greatest importance to show 
improvement or the contrary ; farther, accounts on the rela- 
tion between the mother-country and the colonies. Respect- 
ing the independent states, you must write in the same way 
as has been stated with regard to the United States. The 
task is not easy. I require of a correspondent of a news- 
paper the same that I endeavored to do in my reports to the 
king when I was minister, and what I, as secretary of state 
for foreign affairs, should expect from every diplomatic agent. 
It is all-important to be conscientious and true to the letter. 
The correspondent of a newspaper is the ambassador, not of 
its proprietor, but of the public. Before you begin your cor- 
respondence, look calmly around, and find your true point of 
view. Respecting the feud between the northern and south- 
ern states, I am decidedly Yankee and Anti- Virginian. But 
being fifty-one years old, should I get there, I neither would 
trust the former unconditionally, nor disapprove of the others 
unconditionally. . . . 

" One thing I cannot sufficiently recommend to you — you 
must not take it amiss, my best friend ; it is indeed not in- 
tended as reflecting upon you, but it must be a vast, exten- 
sive shoal, because all newspaper correspondents wreck upon 
it : no political dissertations and generalities, but facts simply 
and concisely related. If you meet with notices of discoveries, 
whether from the South Sea, the interior of America, the 
Columbia river, or from the back settlements on the Mis- 
souri, Arkansas, etc., think of your friend, that you give him 
great pleasure with these things, and send them for insertion 
in the extra sheets of the Allgemeine Zeitung; for this paper 
is the only one of the whole circle which I, so horridly pressed 
for time, look at. 

" In writing to you to Boston, I feel heavily an old debt of 
correspondence to Mr. , of Boston, with regard to him- 
self individually, on account of his honorable article on my 
History, and as secretary of the Academy, in whose name 



INTRODUCTION. 73 

he has honored me with a letter. How old is this debt ! 
But if Mr. , and every other person who considers him- 
self neglected by me, knew in what degree I am overbur- 
dened with labor since I have resumed the continuation of 
my History, they would all pardon me. Besides the History, 
I have now also The Museum (a periodical), and the direc- 
tion of the new edition of the Byzantine Historians. I may 
say that the latter alone would be quite sufficient to bend 
down many a one, especially one who delivers lectures at the 
same time. It causes an indispensable correspondence, which 
cannot be delayed. In addition to this, I must mention the 
abominable loss of time by travellers. This one thing I beg 
of you, my dear friend — don't give easily letters of introduc- 
tion : these people murder my time. 1 Therefore give my 
very best regards to Mr. , and tell him that, notwith- 
standing my silence, I am very grateful to him. I believe I 
do not err in being desirous that you should select him espe- 
cially as your friend in the other hemisphere, and that you 
should confer with him respecting the correspondence. Per- 
haps you will communicate to him from this letter. The paper 
is filled to the very margin, and therefore I can only add, God 
bless you! My wife and children send their love. Marcus 
thinks and speaks of you as if we had left Rome but a few 
weeks ago. I wish to hear from you ; if I do not write, do 
not stop on that account. To-day I have done you a real 
act of friendship. My wife's health is but middling ; that of 
the children excellent ; my own declining. Yours," etc., etc. 

Mr. Niebuhr's lamented death took place in January, 1 83 1. 

It has been my purpose to show in what relation I stood to 
that excellent man ; but I have not pretended to exhibit all 
that he was to me, nor what I owe him, strongly impressed 
as my mind has been by such an association ; I therefore here 
close my relation. 

The judicious reader will easily distinguish among the fol- 



1 It is known of Ernesti that when a person extended a visit over ten min- 
utes, he would rise, point at a large clock, and say, " You have been here ten 
minutes." 



7 4 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

lowing aphorisms those which express Mr, Niebuhr's settled 
opinion, from others which show an occasional view he may 
have taken ; though all, it appears to me, are serviceable in 
drawing a more accurate picture of him. 

To many it will not be uninteresting to know something of 
the habits and personal peculiarities of so distinguished a 
man. 

Mr. Niebuhr was small in stature and thin ; his voice, of a 
very high pitch. He could not see well at a distance, and 
made sometimes strange mistakes. Spectacles were indispen- 
sable to him ; and I had once to make a day's journey in order 
to fetch his Dollond's, which had been forgotten. He lived 
very frugally ; wine and water was his usual beverage : he 
valued good wine, but did not drink it often. He frequently 
shaved while walking up and down the room ; and when I 
was present, he would even talk during this dangerous opera- 
tion. He disliked smoking very much, but took snuff to such 
an excess that he had finally to give it up. He did not write, 
as the ancient scholar, a whole book with one pen ; but he 
used a pen a very long time before he mended it, turning it 
all round so as to use always its sharp point. Yet he wrote 
a neat and legible hand. 

His rare memory enabled him to study frequently without 
a pen ; and I found him sometimes in a lying posture on a 
sofa, holding the work of an ancient writer over his head. 
These were not works which he read by way of relaxation ; 
but, not unfrequently, those he studied with the keenest at- 
tention. His memory, indeed, was almost inconceivable to 
others. He remembered almost everything he had read at 
any period of his life. He was about twenty years old when 
he studied at Edinburgh, and I was present when he conversed 
at Rome with an English gentleman upon some statistical 
statement which he had read in the English papers at the time 
of his residence in that country. The statement was im- 
portant to the stranger, a member of parliament, if I remem- 
ber right ; and Mr. Niebuhr desired me to take pen and paper, 
and forthwith he dictated to me a considerable column of 



INTRODUCTION. j$ 

numbers, to the great surprise of the English visitor. What 
an immense power such a man would have in a deliberative 
assembly, merely on account of his unrelaxing memory ! He 
did not undervalue the great importance of this faculty, which, 
though it be but an instrument, is the most useful and indis- 
pensable of all instruments in all pursuits, disregarded by those 
only who have none. Nor is a retentive memory without its 
moral value both for individuals and nations ; and there was 
truth in the remark of Goethe's friend in Strasburg, that a 
man with a bad memory was necessarily exposed to the vice 
of ingratitude. 

Mr. Niebuhr and myself had conversed one day on the 
great power which a man with a tenacious memory often has 
over another not equally gifted, merely by an array of facts 
and dates, though the strength of the argument may be de- 
cidedly on the other side; and how necessary it therefore 
becomes to cultivate the memory. He said, " Without a 
strong memory I never should have been able to write my 
History, for extracts and notes would not have been sufficient ; 
they would again have formed an inaccessible mass, had I not 
possessed the index in my mind." 

Gibbon, though he does not say how much he owes of his 
whole fame to his excellent memory, gives us at least an 
anecdote, in his Memoirs of my Life and Writings, 1 which 
proves in how great a degree he enjoyed this blessing, and 
justly valued it. It is very evident that the soundest judg- 
ment and clearest mind could not have penetrated into the 
moving causes of the ages he describes, had not his memory 
always held in readiness all the innumerable facts, from which 
it is the historian's duty to make his abstracts. 



1 Gibbon says : " The ode which he (Voltaire) had composed on his first arrival 
on the banks of the Leman Lake, ' O maison d' 'Aristippe ! O jar din d" 1 Epicure? 
etc., had been imparted as a secret to the gentleman by whom I was introduced. 
lie allowed me to read it twice ; I knew it by heart ; and as my discretion was 
not equal to my memory, the author was soon displeased by the circulation of the 
copy. In writing this trivial anecdote, I wished to observe whether my memory 
was impaired, and I have the comfort of finding that every line of the poem is 
still engraved in fresh and indelible characters." 



76 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

Mackintosh, no mean authority for the true way of studying 
history, says : " The genius of history is nourished by the 
study of original narrators, and by critical examination of the 
minute circumstances of facts. Ingenious speculations and 
ostentatious ornaments are miserable substitutes for these 
historical virtues ; and their place is still worse supplied by 
the vivacity or pleasantry which, where it is most successful, 
will most completely extinguish that serious and deep interest 
in the affairs of men which the historian aims to inspire." 
Generally, there will be found to exist some connection be- 
tween a disposition to deal in generalities, and a want of 
patient study of historical details, or of that good memory 
which enables the student to feel at home in past ages almost 
as much as in his own, by keeping all the minor facts in a 
vivid picture before his mind — present without a conscious 
mental exertion, as if it were reality itself. This is not only 
true of historians, but of philosophers, and any other persons 
occupying themselves with reasoning upon important points. 
Rousseau would, probably, not have drawn so largely upon 
sentimental emotions and views suggested by feelings, had 
not his weak memory, of which he complains so much, made 
it impossible for him to judge more distinctly from facts, and 
experience derived from them. 

When we travelled home from Rome, Mr. Niebuhr had 
hired two vetturini for his two carriages, who took us as far 
as Innspruck. One of them knew neither how to read nor to 
write ; the other was pretty well able to keep his accounts : 
both had to account to their masters for all their expenses 
and receipts on thejr return to Rome. The one who had 
learned to write seemed to us to be continually troubled with 
making his expenses square with the sums he had received 
from Mr. Niebuhr, while his companion appeared to be in 
no such trouble. On our inquiry, we found that the latter 
actually relied solely on his memory, and that he was able 
to name every trifling expense for himself and his horses, 
and where and when he had made it. It was an aston- 
ishing feat of memory, and Mr. Niebuhr said, "After all, 



INTR OD UCTION. 



77 



Plato was not so wrong in what he says of the invention of 
letters." 

A peculiarity not less striking was that Mr. Niebuhr was 
able to study and write when there was great noise around 
him. Neither the playing of his children in the same room 
nor the loud conversation of others would disturb him when 
he had once taken the pen; reminding us of Lambert, whose 
power of abstraction is said to have enabled him to write some 
of his most luminous papers on mathematics and optics in the 
corner of a frequented room of a public coffee-house. 

Though the whole range of the classics was ever present 
to his mind, which appeared most forcibly when he met with 
a new inscription, or ruin, the remains of a manuscript, or 
the like, yet he hardly ever quoted for ornament; nor did he 
interlard his letters or other communications with passages 
from the ancient writers. I do not remember that he ever 
expressed himself on the subject, but I believe it would not 
have suited his mind. That he was too familiar with them 
to be vain of quotations is a matter of course ; but I believe, 
besides, that quotations of the kind would not have been con- 
genial to his cast of mind, which looked too much at the real 
state of things in antiquity to indulge in these ornamental 
illustrations, except when some truly witty application could 
be made. Instead of believing that great weight was attached 
to a sentiment merely because it had been stated by a very re- 
mote authority, he frequently illustrated antiquity by instances 
taken from modern times, as his History shows. It may be 
remembered here that the preface to his History of Rome 
contains but three quotations : one of them, from an ancient 
writer, is given by him in German ; another is from Goethe ; and 
the only one in a foreign language is in Spanish ; and all are 
so simple that they almost lose the character of quotations. 

In general it may be observed that quotations from the 
classics, or, in fact, from any authors, for ostentation or as 
mere ornament of speech, seem to be considered by the 
Germans as pedantic, or, perhaps, as betraying the pleasure 
which the quoting author or orator derives from having over- 



7$ REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

come the difficulty of learning a foreign language. There 
was, indeed, a time when the " rector" of a German gymna- 
sium would have believed that he might lend additional 
strength to the different lines of the multiplication-table, 
could he show that Cicero had happened to mention one 
of them ; but at present quoting is not fashionable among 
the learned Germans. All of them read too much to be 
proud of it ; nor have they, generally speaking, so much re- 
gard for authorities, in whatever branch of the sciences or 
arts, as to consider insertions from early writers valuable ad- 
ditions to the strength of their composition. It is quite dif- 
ferent with regard to the respect they pay to the history of 
every subject : there, pedantry is often on the side of the 
Germans. 

The German taste with regard to this point is another in- 
stance of the different view the German and English nations 
take of the period which, with the Germans, is sometimes 
called the age of wigs — somewhat synonymous with the age 
of stiffness or pedantry. This meaning would by no means 
be attached to a similar expression in England, neither with 
regard to politics nor literature. On a former occasion I have 
spoken more fully on this striking difference. 1 Mr. Niebuhr 
liked the simplest style of writing, though his earlier German 
may sometimes betray his intimate familiarity with Latin. 

He cannot be said to have been of a decidedly gay dispo- 
sition ; yet he loved hilarity and relished a joke. He greatly 
enjoyed the broad comedy of S. Carlino in Naples, and we 
repaired often to that temple of hearty merriment during our 
stay in this city. I could always amuse him by telling him 
of some ludicrous occurrence. He was a good man, and 
therefore open to mirth. " Come," said he one day at Naples, 
"let us see the macaroni-eaters again;" their skilful swallow- 
ing of the endless and pliant pipes of this " charming vege- 
table," as Scaramouch said, having greatly diverted him. Yet 



1 In The Stranger in America, vol. i. pages 116 et seq. in the London edition; 
pages 75 and 76 in the Philadelphia edition. 



INTRODUCTION. yg 

he was far from relishing anything which savored in the least 
of coarseness. His feelings were altogether refined, and those 
of a finely-organized mind. 

I have found him repeatedly rolling on the ground with 
his children : nor did he ask the beholders whether they had 
any children, as that personage did who affords a royal pre- 
cedent to all fathers that love to play on the ground with 
their offspring. 

His simplicity was very great : he could forgive where 
others would have long remembered. Frankness was a pe- 
culiarly striking feature in his admirable character. I found 
him one day pale, and asked him whether he did not feel well. 
" I feel sad," said he, " and have not slept well. I have pun- 
ished my Marcus last night, for I felt convinced that he had 
not told me the truth; proofs appeared to be convincing: and 
yet, I found afterwards that he was innocent." He asked the 
child's pardon several times. His love to his children was 
exceedingly great; and he held his first wife (not the mother 
of these children) in sacred memory. I have seen him and 
his second wife, a relative to his first, standing before her 
portrait in silent contemplation. She had been an uncommon 
woman, to whom he read everything before publication. He 
said once to me he thought that, except medical and law 
books, few others ought to be written so that they might not 
be read by women ; and it was he who advised me to give in 
a Latin note to my Journey in Greece what he considered 
too interesting to be omitted, and yet unfitted to be read by 
females. 1 " If," he added, * a lady knows Latin, why then it 
is enough for the author to have shown that the part in Latin 
is not intended for her." 

Having 'spoken of that note to my Journal, so painfully 
interesting to the student of the causes of general morality 



1 He added himself to the note the following words, as if written by me : 
" Denique hoc moneo, me, Anglorum exemplo, qui in itinerum narratione per- 
scribenda fcedas quasdam res necessarid attigerunt, Latino sermone usum esse in 
his rebus disputandis, ne scilicet matronarum pudorem offenderem, quas a libello 
meo perlegendo minime absterritas, neque ilium legisse iis rubori esse vellem." 



8o REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

or depravity, I will add here, that the testis idonens, mentioned 
there as having communicated to me the information of that 
conspiracy of peasants in a part of northern Germany, which 
is as peculiar as it is odious and strikingly interesting to the 
political economist, is Mr. Niebuhr himself. 1 

His physical courage was not great, though his conviction 
and feeling of duty would have prompted him to expose him- 
self to any danger. He was easily thrown into alarm with 
regard to himself as well as to his family. A fish-bone which 
stuck in his throat during our dinner at Mola di Gaeta threw 
him into complete terror. 

His mind was formed to observe man in his various rela- 
tions, such as commerce, agriculture, and politics. He took 
delight in applying the knowledge thus gathered to times 
long gone by, but familiar to him by persevering study, ex- 
tensive knowledge of languages, and a vivid memory. He 
was a politician in history, and a historical philologist. His 
power of combination was remarkable, as the reader may 
know from his works. This formed the strength of his mind. 
Though he loved the fine arts, and was delighted by master- 
works, still, I believe, he had no acute eye for them ; nor was 
his love of the fine arts a matter of the inmost soul. They 
did not form a sphere in which his mind moved with inde- 
pendence. 

With regard to politics, Mr. Niebuhr must be classed with 
those who look back rather than forward. His heart was 
with the people, but he disliked modern political principles. 

No scholar was ever more impartial than he was ; he loved 
science wherever it appeared. To assist in the furtherance of 
a clever botanical work was as important to him as any his- 
torical inquiry; and he told me once that he had proposed at 
the time of the humiliation of Prussia, that the members of 
the Royal Academy, of which he was himself one, should give 
up the small salary they enjoyed as academicians, in order to 
call one of the first mathematicians for the joint sum to Berlin. 



1 See page 77 of my Journal in Greece, quoted before. 



INTRODUCTION. 8 1 

He was quick, and at times impatient, as most men of active 
mind are. One day he was very angry with a servant whom 
he had called repeatedly and who made him wait a long while, 
when the time of an important appointment with Cardinal 
Consalvi had already passed. " Ah, Eccellenza," said the ser- 
vant, " i viaggi in questo palazzo so7io lunghi" I could not 
help laughing at this hyperbolical speech ; and he soon joined 
me, though his situation was indeed a trying one. Another 
servant said on a similar occasion, and with similar effect : 
" Che vnol che dica f Se avessi per ogni cos a una testa sola!' 

All the sentiments of the succeeding pages, which are given 
without farther remark of my own, are to be taken as the 
literal expressions of Mr. Niebuhr himself. 

Philadelphia, April, 1835. 



Vol. I.— 6 



82 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



REMINISCENCES. 



Liberty depends not only upon the Legislative Branch. 
— In most of the late attempts at establishing free institutions, 
nations have committed the great mistake of seeking liberty 
in the legislative branch only, or mainly ; but liberty depends 
at least as much upon the administrative branch 1 as upon any 
other. The English are the only modern European nation 
who have acted differently; and the freedom of North America 
rests upon this great gift from Old England even more than 
on the representative form of her government, or anything 
else. We are swallowed up by bureaucracy ; all public spirit 2 
is smothered. And then, of what use is a representative and 
debating council, as in France, if all the rest is founded on 
the principle, of this concentrated bureaucracy — if the minister 
has to carry out the general law into all its details ? With 
such a power, a chamber can generally be bought ; and then 
the ministerial influence is but the more absolute, while all 
odium falls upon the nominal law-makers. But here (in 
Rome), in Spain, and in Portugal, there are neither the British 
principle, nor bureaucratic order, and system, and precision. 
In these countries there is an independent action of the dif- 
ferent members, but not of the minor circles. Our Stein 3 has 
done much to re-introduce this healthy action. 



1 Verwaltung was the German word. 

2 Gemeinsinn was the word he used. 

3 Charles, Baron vom Stein, for some time Prussian minister of state — un cer- 
tain Stein,, as the Moniteur called him, when an intercepted letter had shown 
that he was secretly preparing for the deliverance of Germany from the French, 
and Napoleon had outlawed him. The tendency of the Prussian government, 
as in fact that of almost every government on the continent of Europe, had 



ENGLAND.— ROMAN HISTORY. 83 

England. — My early residence in England gave me one 
important key to Roman history. It is necessary to know- 
civil life by personal observation in order to understand such 
states as those of antiquity. I never could have understood 
a number of things in the history of Rome without having 
observed England. Not that the idea of writing the history 
of Rome was then clear within me; but when, at a later 
period, this idea became more and more distinct in my mind, 
all the observation and experience I had gained in England 
came to my aid, and the resolution was taken. 

Niebuhr's Work on Great Britain.— He published the 
work on Great Britain 1 (after that unfortunate time when 
a foreign people ruled over us Germans with a cruel sword 
and a heartless bureaucracy), in order to show what liberty is. 
Those who oppressed us called themselves all the time the 
harbingers of liberty, at the very moment they sucked the 
very heart-blood of our people ; and we wanted to show what 
liberty in reality is. 

Historiographers of Rome. — The great misfortune has 
been that, with one or two exceptions, those who have written 
on Roman history either had not the stuff 2 for it, or they 
were no statesmen. Yet no one can write a history of this 
great people without being a statesman, and a practical one 
too. 

No wonder that so little has been done in Roman history; 



been, for a long time, to concentrate as much as possible all power, and to rule 
by a uniform bureaucracy. Mr. vom Stein, equally far from approving the modern 
principles of liberal representative government as from considering bureaucratic 
concentration beneficial to the people, induced the King of Prussia to issue the 
well-known Stadteordntmg ; an ordinance by which the privilege of self-govern- 
ment was, in a degree, restored to the cities of the kingdom. Mr. Niebuhr, who 
entertained a very high opinion of Baron vom Stein, also believed that this Stadte- 
ordnung might have become the groundwork of an enlarged and highly bene- 
ficial system of legislation had Stein remained in office. He expresses this view 
in the preface to the work mentioned in the next note. 

1 Representation of the Internal Government of Great Britain, by Baron von 
Vincke, edited by B. G. Niebuhr. Berlin, 1815. 

2 Zeug was his expression. 



84 REMINISCENCES OF N IE BOHR. 

for a Roman historian ought to be a sound and well-read 
philologer and a practical statesman. 

[I asked whether some periods of Roman history did not 
require also military knowledge. Mr. Niebuhr answered :] 

Roman history can be understood by a statesman who is 
not a general, but not by a general who is no statesman ; for 
it is the growth of the law which constitutes the essential part 
of Roman history. Military knowledge, in a considerable 
degree, is always necessary, I admit; but then this maybe 
obtained without one's being necessarily a soldier. 

Niebuhr and Gibbon. — If God will only grant me a life so 
long that I may end where Gibbon begins, it is all I pray for. 

[After a pause he added :] Yes ; if I should be spared 
longer, I would do yet something more. There is still much 
to be done. Your generation has a great deal to do, my 
friend. 

Carnot. — For Carnot I feel great respect. In some points 
he is the greatest man of this century. His virtue is of an 
exalted kind. When he invents a new system of tactics to 
oppose the old armies of Europe, hastens to the army, teaches 
how to be victorious with them, and returns to Paris, he ap- 
pears great indeed. However I differ from his political views, 
there is a republican greatness in him which commands respect. 
My love for him may be an anomaly ; yet so it is. 

Had I nothing in the wide world but a piece of bread left, 
I would be proud of sharing it with Carnot. 

Holland and Belgium — The King and Queen of the 
Netherlands. — I used to know the King of the Netherlands 
well, when he lived in great retirement in Berlin, after having 
been driven from Holland by the French. He took great 
interest in my History, and read and studied a good deal. He 
is a character of sterling worth : so is the queen ; she is a 
woman of the purest character, mild and charitable. They 
are a couple wishing as anxiously the good of their people as 
any that ever sat upon a throne. I believe there are very few 
women, in whatever rank of life, to be compared in excellence 
to the Queen of the Netherlands. The king asked my views 



HIS KNOWLEDGE OF LATIN. 85 

respecting the union of Holland and Belgium, 1 and the con- 
stitution. You know he was averse to taking Belgium. I 
declared most positively that this would never do : if Belgium 
must be under the same sceptre with Holland, they ought at 
least to remain separated like Norway and Sweden. There 
is, in fact, much more reason for separation with the Dutch 
and Belgians. They have nothing in common : language, 
religion, interests — everything is directly opposed. The Bel- 
gians are poor copies of the French. I cannot believe that 
the present arrangement will end well : I have very serious 
fears and misgivings. May God grant that my fears are un- 
founded, and my speculations will be put to nought ! 

Mr. Niebuhr's Knowledge of Latin. — I am now able to 
write Latin: it is but within a few years that I could say so. 
I always could write it, as it is called ; and did so with the 
pleasure we feel in writing pretty fluently in a foreign language, 
especially an ancient one ; but now I feel the language is mine. 
I see that I do not only write it correctly, but I feel I write it 
as my own language : I even prefer to express myself on some 
subjects in that idiom. I am pleased to see that the Italians 
allow this to me; for, though they have remained greatly 
behind the Germans in philology and knowledge of antiquities, 
they have always retained some good writers of Latin. It is 
still their language. Look at my Marcus ; how easily he 
reads the Latin translation of Homer ! 

[Marcus, Mr. Niebuhr's son, then about four years old, had 
learned Italian as his first language. His parents originally 
intended to talk German to him, while his nurse, an Italian 
woman, taught him the idiom of her country. But the con- 
sequence was, what by no means is generally the case under 



1 I think I am correct in this statement ; quite sure I am that he said he had 
communicated his views, such as stated above, to the king, which he hardly would 
have done had he not been asked so to do. But I think he said distinctly that 
the sketch of the constitution had been shown him. I believe, moreover, that 
he said the king was of his opinion as to separate governments for Holland and 
Belgium, but that he was outvoted by his counsellors. — The above remark was 
made in the year 1822. 



S6 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

similar circumstances, that the child would not speak at all. 
The parents then wisely resolved to give up the German for a 
year or two. He now learned Italian rapidly ; and when I 
entered the house of Mr. Niebuhr, Marcus had begun to read 
a Latin translation of Homer, in which he made such rapid 
progress that he soon understood the Latin with very little 
assistance except that of his own Italian.] 

Homer. — What wisdom there is in Homer ! With a few 
omissions, it is the very book for children. I know of no 
story, except Robinson Crusoe, which fascinates a child so 
much as Homer. It is all natural, simple, and capable of 
being understood by a child. And then, how well does he 
not prepare for all the knowledge of antiquity, without which 
we cannot now get along ! How many thousand things and 
sayings does the child not understand at once by knowing 
that great poem ! The whole Odyssey is the finest story for 
a child. 

Have you ever read Pope's Odyssey ? [I answered in the 
negative.] 

Well, he replied, you must read some parts of it at least; 
it is a ridiculous thing, as bad as the French heroes of Greece 
in periwigs. There is not a breath of antiquity in Pope's trans- 
lation. He might have changed as much as he liked, and 
called it a reproduction; but to strip it of its spirit of antiquity 
was giving us a corpse instead of a living being. It is a small 
thing. How totally different is the manner in which the Ger- 
man Voss has handled the subject. He shows at once that he 
knows and feels the poem is antique, and he means to leave it 
so. Voss's translation might certainly be improved in various 
parts, but he has made Homer a German work, now read by 
every one; he has done a great thing. You do not imagine 
it, yet it is a fact, that Voss's translation of Homer has had a 
great influence upon your own education. I say it, well con- 
sidering what I say, that the influence of the labors of Voss 
on the whole German nation will be so great, that other 
nations will feel and acknowledge it. 

[The reader will be reminded by this remark of what Mr. 



HIS KNOWLEDGE OF LANGUAGES. 



87 



Niebuhr wrote at a later period in the preface to his second 
edition of the History of Rome : 

" We (the Germans) had now," he says, on page viii. of the 
English translation, "a literature worthy of our nation and 
language ; we had Lessing and Goethe : and this literature 
comprised, what none had yet, a great part of the Greek and 
Roman, not copied, but, as it were, reproduced. For this 
Germany is indebted to Voss, whom our grandchildren's 
children and grandchildren must extol as their benefactor ; 
with whom a new age for the knowledge of antiquity begins ; 
inasmuch as he succeeded in eliciting out of the classical 
writers, what they presuppose, their notions of the earth, for 
instance, and of the gods, their ways of life and their house- 
hold habits ; and understood and interpreted Homer and 
Virgil as if they were our contemporaries, and only separated 
from us by an interval of space. His example wrought upon 
many: upon me, ever since my childhood, it has been en- 
forced by personal encouragement from this old friend of my 
family."] 

Mr. Niebuhr's Knowledge of Languages. — [I had found 
a Russian grammar and some Russian books in his library, 
and asked him whether he had ever studied that language. 
He said :] 

Oh, yes ; I would not leave the whole Slavonic x stock of 
languages untouched; and I wished to understand all the 
European languages at least. Every one may learn them : it 
is easy enough after we once know three. I now. understand 
all the languages of Europe pretty well, not excepting my 
Low German, only these Slavonic idioms excepted. I have 



1 I write Slavonic, though the learned and accomplished author of the His- 
torical View of the Slavic Language in its Various Dialects (Andover, Massa- 
chusetts, 1834) uses the shorter form Slavic. She is certainly good authority on 
this point, and Slavic is more correct than Slavonic, which the English have 
formed of the French Esclavon ; but Slavic has a sound so much resembling 
that of slave, that I thought Slavonic preferable on this account : a reason which 
would yield perhaps to the weightier one of correctness, if ever I should treat of 
the subject at length. Here, where the word is mentioned only by the way, it 
will be of no consequence which formation has been used. 



88 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

not read much in them, yet I know them. Have you ever 
studied Dutch ? 

[Not yet, I answered.] 

Well, he continued, do not omit it ; it is well to understand 
it for its own sake, as well as on account of a better knowl- 
edge of German and English ; and your study of this lan- 
guage will give you something to laugh at. A translation 
of Pindar into Dutch, I think, is one of the most entertain- 
ing: things one can meet with. It sounds to a German ear 
exceedingly laughable. 1 

[Do you speak most of the languages you know? I asked.] 

Yes, nearly all, he replied; except the Slavonic idioms, as 
I told you. 

[And do you never find any inconvenience from a mixture 
of languages of the same kind ?] 

Not often. I dare say it would be some time before I 
should be able to write correctly in Spanish. I should prob- 
ably introduce many Italicisms. 2 Generally speaking, well- 



1 English and Americans are very apt to connect ideas with the word Dutch, 
and especially Dutch language, which strongly incline to the ridiculous, alto- 
gether forgetting that that part of the English tongue on which its strength and 
noble character chiefly depend, according to what all its profoundest students have 
declared, is the inheritance of a common stock with the Dutch — the ancient Low 
German. I had not found time to study Dutch, nor had my labors led me to 
Dutch literature ; and being a native of a province in which High German is 
spoken, and not possessing therefore the natural key to the Dutch language — 
Low German — I was utterly unacquainted with Dutch. Books written in this 
language had now and then fallen into my hands, but I could not read them. 
Great, therefore, was my surprise when, one day, after I had learned English 
pretty thoroughly, I met with a Dutch book, and found I could read it with ease. 
I do not mean to intimate that an Englishman who does not know German would 
understand Dutch as a matter of course; but my case shows, in a striking manner, 
how much nearer English is related to Dutch than German. 

2 When the King of Prussia visited Rome after the Congress of Verona, he 
had ordered the Baron Alexander de Humboldt from Paris, to accompany him 
through Italy. It was during this journey that I heard him say, in Mr. Niebuhr's 
house, that he had found considerable difficulty in speaking Italian, though he 
was perfectly master of it ; the Spanish, in which he had written so much, and 
which he had spoken for many years, always mixing itself with it. Yet, before 
M. de Humboldt had reached Rome, this difficulty must have greatly diminished. 
I remember when he entered the saloon of the Prussian legation, and I saw that 



HIS KNOWLEDGE OF LANGUAGES. 89 

educated, and especially literary people, do not mix : it is the 
illiterate who produce the lingos by a mixture of the differ- 
ent languages, as well as by lowering their character. Look 
at the servants who come with travellers here to Rome, or 
read the works of literary people and transactions of com- 
mon life, written in periods when two different tribes, living 
together, have not yet fairly intermingled. I am told the 
Germans in Pennsylvania mix English and German in a bar- 
barous way. 

[Mr. Niebuhr having mentioned the German spoken by the 
descendants of German emigrants in Pennsylvania, I had the 
intention of offering here some remarks on this peculiar jar- 
gon, interesting in more than one respect. I found, however, 
that it was impossible for me to compress them into a smaller 
space than eight or ten pages, which seemed to me so entirely 
out of proportion that I felt constrained to retain my observa- 
tions made among the German Pennsylvanians, and the va- 
rious instances I have collected to illustrate the subject, for 
some future occasion. The study of this barbarous dialect is 
of the highest interest to the student of the corruption of 
languages — a subject of paramount importance to every phi- 
lologist ; for it is to the process of corruption that the study 
of the formation of most of our languages naturally leads us. 
By an inquiry into the German spoken in Pennsylvania, we 
surprise a language in that moment of transformation through 
which most modern European idioms have passed — a state 
of rude and slovenly mixture and repulsive degeneracy; for 
languages are like nations : rebellion and lawlessness cease to 
be such as soon as a new state of settled legitimacy grows 
out of the unsettled state of things. To the student of the 
English language, in particular, this degenerated daughter of 
the German idiom is interesting. He finds a repetition of 



great man for the first time, not knowing at the time who he was; for some reason 
or other he thought I was an Italian, and addressed me accordingly in good 
Italian; I, in turn, thought he was a French gentleman, and addressed him ac- 
cordingly ; and I was not a little surprised when at length Mr. Niebuhr entered 
and addressed him in German. 



9 o 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



almost every single process by which his own language was 
originally formed ; though these processes are, in the case of 
the Pennsylvania German, often in but an incipient stage, and 
will never go farther, since it is impossible that this dialect 
can ever elevate itself to independence. It will be swallowed 
up before it arrives at maturity, as several concoctions of 
languages were in the beginning of the middle ages.] 

Abuse of Power. — Whoever has power abuses it. 

[On another occasion he said :] 

Whoever has power abuses it; every page of history 
proves the fact. Individual, body, the people, it is all the 
same ; power is abused : and yet some one or some body 
must have it. The great problem seems to be to vest it in 
such a manner that as little mischief can be done as possible. 
But to effect this something very different is necessary from 
merely clipping the wings of power. Injudicious restraint 
of power leads to as many evil consequences as unlimited 
power. 

Importance of a good Handwriting. — A bad handwriting 
ought never to be forgiven; 1 it is a shameful indolence. In- 
deed, sending a badly-written letter to a fellow-creature is as 
impudent an act as I know of. Can there be anything more 
unpleasant than to open a letter which at once shows that it 
will require long deciphering ? Besides, the effect of the let- 
ter is gone if we must spell it. Strange, we carefully avoid 
troubling other people even with trifles, or to appear before 
them in dress which shows negligence or carelessness, and 
yet nothing is thought of giving the disagreeable trouble of 
reading a badly-written letter. In England, good breeding 
requires writing well and legibly ; with us (the Germans) it 
seems as if the contrary principle was acknowledged. 2 Al- 



1 Mr. Niebuhr wrote a peculiarly legible and fair hand; an accomplishment 
of which not many German savans can boast. 

2 Writing seems to me to be just like dressing ; we ought to dress well and 
neat; but as we may dress too well, so may a pedantically fine hand shew that 
the writer has thought more of the letters than the sense. It ought to be re- 
membered, however, that it is far more difficult to write German characters well 



IMPORTANCE OF WRITING CORRECTLY. 



91 



though many people may not have made a brilliant career by 
their fine handwriting, yet I know that not a few have spoiled 
theirs by a bad one. The most important petitions are fre- 
quently read with no favorable disposition, or entirely thrown 
aside, merely because they are written so badly. 

Importance of Writing at once correctly. — Endeavor 
never to strike out anything of what you have once written 
down. Punish yourself by allowing once or twice something 
to pass, though you see you might give it better ; it will ac- 
custom you to be more careful in future ; and you will not 
only save much time, but also think more correctly and dis- 
tinctly. I hardly ever strike out or correct my writing, even 
in my despatches to the king. Persons who have never tried 
to write at once correctly, do not know how easy it is, after 
all, provided your thoughts are clear and well arranged ; and 
they ought to be so before you put pen to paper. 

[The reader will remember the striking coincidence between 
what Mr. Niebuhr says here and what we read of Gibbon, in 
his Memoirs of my Life and Writings, that he would often 
walk up and down in his room to round off a sentence before 
he attempted to write it down. Nor can I refrain from copy- 
ing the following passage of the same work. Mr. Gibbon 



and legibly than Roman letters. Hence names in German manuscripts for 
printers are generally written with the latter. The English write best of all 
nations, using this alphabet"; the Americans next. The French write in general 
badly, especially ladies ; the Italians very poorly ; and Spaniards hardly legibly, 
to the great confusion of their foreign commercial correspondents. It is curious 
to observe how the two last-named nations show by their handwriting that they 
have remained behind the general European civilization. They continue to 
use the contracted letters, abbreviations, and ornamental lines and flourishes 
which were common with all Europeans a century ago. The art of writing has 
much improved during the latter centuries; compare MS. letters of the present 
day with those we have of the time of the Reformation. Nor does the progress 
of this art show less the general tendency of the times than so many other 
branches of human activity, domestic comfort, etc. While the ancient expensive 
art of writing most beautifully and tastefully on parchment has fallen into disuse, 
the common handwriting of every man, for daily practical use, has vastly im- 
proved : the one, expensive and of an exclusive character, belonged to an aristo- 
cratic age; the other is characteristic of a time of popular tendency. 



92 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

says : " I will add two facts, which have seldom occurred in 
the composition of six, or at least of five quartos. My first 
rough manuscript, without any intermediate copy, has been 
sent to the press. 2. Not a sheet has been seen by any human 
eyes excepting those of the author and the printer ; the faults 
and merits are exclusively my own."] 

Napoleon's Handwriting. — The more Napoleon's power 
increased the worse his handwriting became, until at last it 
was sometimes impossible even for his ministers to decipher 
it. Many a time they were greatly embarrassed, one went to 
the other, and none could make out his scribbling, which of 
course was always on the most important subjects only, and 
generally great haste was required in executing his orders. 

Parchment. — [We had spoken of different kinds of paper:] 

If I were rich, I would write on nothing but parchment ; I 
like it exceedingly. 

Michelangelo — First King of Italy. — [We had con- 
versed on Italy ; her great destiny of being united under one 
government ; the ardent wish of every great Italian, from the 
time when Dante wrote his Italia, di dolor ostello, to the 
latest times; of Machiavelli and his proposed means of uniting 
Italy ; of the great and various powers which would be requi- 
site in a restorer of Italian nationality ; and I had said that, 
strange as it might sound, I never could read the writings of 
Michelangelo, or behold his works, without thinking that he 
was of a mould requisite for a man to become the first king 
of Italy.] 

I am truly glad, he replied, you say so ; it is my opinion too. 
He was a great man and a sterling man. Yes, Michelangelo 
would have been the man under certain circumstances ; but 
these, of course, it is not in the power of mortal man to 
create. 

Machiavelli. — Machiavelli, though he makes considerable 
mistakes in his views of early Roman history, was a great 
man, a wise man. His intellect was of the first class, and he 
knew what he was about ; which, by the way, only powerful 
minds know, yet not all powerful minds. 



ADVICE TO YOUNG PEOPLE. 93 

Mr. Niebuhr's Parental Wish. — I wish my son to become 
what I could not ; I will spare no exertion to give him all the 
advantages which I had not. 

Mr. Spalding — Niebuhr's Roman History. — Perhaps I 
should never have written my Roman History had not men 
like Savigny and Spalding encouraged me in the most friendly 
way. Spalding was one of my dearest friends. He read my 
manuscript ; and with what pleasure have I received it back, 
when he approved, encouraged, and suggested improvements. 
I count my acquaintance with him among the happiest events 
in my life. 

[George Louis Spalding was professor in one of the gym- 
nasia of Berlin. He was a distinguished philologer, and died 
in 181 1. His father, John Joachim Spalding, was one of the 
most meritorious and celebrated German divines. The reader 
will find another remark on Mr. Spalding, the younger, farther 
below.] 

The evil time of Prussia's humiliation has some share in 
the production of my History. We could do little more than 
ardently hope for better days, and prepare for them. What 
was to be done in the mean while? One must do some- 
thing. I went back to a nation, great, but long passed by, to 
strengthen my mind and that of my hearers. We felt like 
Tacitus. 

Advice to Young People. — [He had observed that my 
mind had not been cheerful for some time past, and he 
said :] 

I believe I understand your pensiveness. My dear friend, 
pray to God : " I will keep thy commands, give me tranquillity 
in return." A kind Providence will not refuse so simple a 
prayer. It is not the destiny of men of your cast of mind to 
go quietly on the path of faith from childhood to old age. 
You must struggle, but be not afraid. Many before you have 
had to pass through the same struggle. Keep your mind 
active and your soul pure, and all will come right. Whatever 
aspect the world around you may have, keep steadily to the 
love of truth. You could not help becoming old before your 



9 4 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

age; but there are at present many, it seems to me, who 
wantonly lose their youth, and trouble their minds with cares 
and griefs of which they know nothing but the name. The 
vigor of manhood depends much upon a healthy and natural, 
not premature state of mind in youth. 

Signs of the rapid Flight of " Time. — [Mr. Niebuhr 
had asked me whether I had read a certain book, I forget 
what ; and on my answer in the negative, said :] 

Nothing, indeed, shows me so strikingly that I belong to a 
generation which is fast to be supplanted by a succeeding one, 
as the fact that books which were the rage when I was young 
are not known by men of your age. By the opinion in which 
some works, published when I was young, are held by your 
generation, I am already enabled to compare my criticism of 
the literature of my younger days with the opinion of pos- 
terity. 

[The faster books are published, the sooner this forerunner 
of the criticism takes place. In various respects it seemed to 
me necessary to " keep up" with the literature of the day ; 
but books of the lighter kind have become so numerous that 
it is utterly impossible to read everything besides one's serious 
and official studies. I have therefore contrived the following 
means : I allow always half a year to pass after the publication 
of a work, if the name of its author is not a sufficient guar- 
antee to make me at once read it. If the book is still spoken 
of after the lapse of this period, and if I am still asked, " Have 
you read such or such a book ?" I read it : thus I make time 
criticise for me ; and the reader has no idea how much trouble 
I am spared. I gain by not losing time ; and I gain by not 
being obliged to glance at a large mass of books which come 
and go like moths and flies.] 

Mr. Niebuhr's Memory. — [When I had just returned from 
Greece, and described certain spots to him, he would ask for 
by-ways, remains of wells, paths over high ridges, or other 
minute details, as if he had been there. As many of the 
objects for which he asked exist still, and I had seen them, I 
was amazed at his accurate knowledge.] 



PARTIES IN FRANCE. 95 

Oh, said he, I never forget anything I once have seen, read, 
or heard. 1 

France a Republic. — Only those who do not know any- 
thing of history, or have never observed and studied republics 
now in existence, can have for a moment the idea that France 
can become a republic. There is not one of the many neces- 
sary materials for building a republic in France. It is utterly 
impossible ; yet there are some crazy brains who wish for a 
French republic in good faith ; many of those who pretend to 
believe in it know much better. 

Parties in France. — I think matters stand very badly in 
France; neither the one nor the other party allows of any 
cheerful prospect. The Royalists sometimes act as if they 
were mad ; and in the Opposition are distinguished men who 
have spent their whole lives in contradiction to the principles 
they pretend to avow. Their boldness, at least, must be ad- 
mired. Men who have driven the people at home and in 
foreign countries to despair pretend to be Liberals now ! But 
so little are things remembered ! I dare say few people 
recollect how infamously some, who now figure as the fore- 
most in the Liberal ranks, behaved among us (Germans). You 
know very well that there was no greater leech, and more 
oppressive instrument of tyranny among the French, than 

, when Intendant de la Mark de Brandenbonrg y and now 

he is a great and noisy Liberal. He has excused himself by 
the old adage, that it was not he, but his orders, that were 
oppressive. It is not true. Why have other servants of 
Napoleon, equally strict in executing the ruinous orders of 
their regardless master, acted differently ? Surely they could 
bring no happy times to our poor people either; but they 
showed, at least, that they had a heart; and so essentially 
good-natured is the German, that this was always acknowl- 
edged with gratitude. He, however, used to say to those 
who made the most earnest representations, " In half a century 



1 Instances of the extraordinary memory of Mr. Niebuhr have been given in 
the preface. It would be easy for me to add a number here. 



9 6 



REMINISCENCES OF N1EBUHR. 



the country will have recovered, and no trace of suffering be 

left." , in Holland, used to say, " Que fait cela a VEm- 

pereurf The people were galled to their heart's core. The 
French have shown a most decided trait during the time of 
their conquests, namely, avarice. I speak of all, from the 
highest to the lowest; their greediness for money was dis- 
gusting. You were too young at that time to know many 
details, but I know them. The many contrivances they would 
resort to in order to extort money would appear now almost 
incredible. Other nations have not shown this trait of mean- 
ness during their conquests. They have always levied con- 
tributions ; and the English in India were certainly not over- 
delicate, but it was not done in so mean a way, and by every 
one in his sphere. How much we have often laughed, bitter 
as the times were, when some of the high-sounding procla- 
mations and bulletins of Napoleon were issued, and all the 
French were made to appear in them the purest knights, full 
of honor and devotion to a great cause, and we compared 
these trumpet-sounds to reality. They were essentially mean, 
and of course without the slightest shame. There were, as 
you know, exceptions. How differently have our generals 
acted in France ! 

Opinion of Pius VII. of Prince Hohenlohe. — The Pope 
(Pius VII.) one day, speaking to me of Prince Hohenlohe, 
said, Questo far dei miracoli ? followed by a very significant 
shake of his head, expressive of strong doubt. 1 

The Pope's Interest in the Labors of Mr. Niebuhr — 
His Blessing. — The Pope (Pius VII.) seems to take great 
pleasure in talking to me of my investigations in the Vatican, 
and never does it without remembering the time when he was 



1 Alexander Leopold, Prince Hohenlohe, now canon at Grosswardein, in 
Hungary, has acquired great reputation by his miracles. Those which he effected 
at a distance by appointing a precise time when the afflicted person and he pray 
at the minute, the necessary deduction on account of different degrees of longi- 
tude always being made, have attracted most attention. Prince Hohenlohe had 
been in Rome, where his demeanor seems to have betrayed to Pius VII. so little 
of true apostolic humbleness, that he was far from believing in the miracles when 
they were reported in Rome. 



POPE PIUS VII. 97 

professor of Greek. Perhaps he feels more at ease with me 
than with the Catholic ambassadors. Whenever he can, he 
stops me after an audience to talk to him a little. He seems 
to me an exceedingly good and pious man : I feel real rever- 
ence for him. I once presented my Marcus to him ; and in 
giving him his blessing he said, with a most venerable smile, 
u The blessing of an old man won't do him any harm." x 

Citron sent by the Pope. — Look here, my young friend, 
Mr. Niebuhr said one day, the Pope has sent me a basketful 
of citrons produced in his garden. I shall have them boiled 
in sugar and send them to my Catholic friends in Berlin. 
How they will enjoy it! what a feast it will be for the little 
ones of ! 

Mr. Niebuhr's Father — Franklin. — [I had read Mr. 
Niebuhr's Life of his Father, 2 and said : " Your father seems 



1 Bourrienne, in his Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, relates a similar anecdote of 
Pius VII. when he visited the imperial printing-press in Paris, a few days before 
the coronation of Napoleon. It is very possible that the benevolent Pius said 
these kindly words by way of quotation, since it is related that they were first 
used by a Pope who saw an Englishman exposed to the fury of the populace, as 
he would not kneel down when the pontiff passed. " Kneel down, my son," 
were the words with which the Pope is said to have addressed the Englishman, 
"an old man's blessing won't harm thee anyhow." The same anecdote is re- 
ported of Sir Horace Walpole and Pope Benedict XVI. (Lambertini). The 
former paid his visit to the head of the Catholic church when his father was 
premier of England: he hesitated to kneel down, as it might have given rise to 
rumors not agreeable to his father, the great Whig minister ; and the Pope, ob- 
serving his hesitation, is said to have found this admirable way of avoiding the 
difficulty, by offering the blessing as an old man only, and not in his ecclesiastic 
capacity. The custom may have been different from what it is now : at present, 
no Protestant is expected to kneel before the Pope. Mr. Niebuhr, the minister 
of a Protestant monarch, bent his knee but slightly when he paid his respects to 
the Pope in official audiences — a way of approaching monarchs which was for- 
merly common, and is still in use in several countries. At present, when a 
number of persons, Catholics and Protestants, are presented to the Pope — for 
instance, the officers of an American man-of-war — the Catholics are requested 
to write down their names previous to the audience. They are received first, 
and admitted to the usual ceremony of kissing the cross on the Pope's slipper 
and receiving his blessing. Protestants approach as they would to any other 
sovereign. 

2 Since translated into English, and published in one of the numbers of the 
Vol. I. — 7 



9 8 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

to me somewhat like Franklin ;" alluding merely to their 
simplicity and inexhaustible activity and desire for accurate 
knowledge.] 

Indeed? said he, quite astonished; there was no cunning 
in my father. On the contrary, my father was an extremely 
simple-hearted man. I cannot see the similarity. My father 
had no worldly shrewdness. 

[I explained myself, and he seemed to agree with me.] 

Henry IV. of France. — [I had asked him whether he did 
not believe that Henry IV. might have done wonders for 
France and all Europe, and saved his native country from 
revolution, had he supported the people in their desire of 
establishing Protestantism — a question arising from a want of 
sufficient knowledge of that period.] 

Do you believe so? he said. I doubt it very much indeed; 
but I am not sufficiently master of the French history of that 
time. 

[He said this with ineffable simplicity and modesty, without 
the least apparent intention of making me reflect upon the 
scantiness of my knowledge.] 

Authority of Law among the Romans. — The meaning 
which the word law had among the Romans, and the obedi- 
ence paid to this abstract authority, are historical traits of 
that great nation. They are quite peculiar to them in an- 
tiquity; and in modern times comparable only to the civil 
spirit of the English and their children in America. 

Athens — Sparta. — The ancient philosophers praised the 
aristocratic constitutions of Sparta ; but really I prefer ten 
times over all the Athenian licentiousness, bad as it really 
was, to the order of Lacedgemon. What have they done or 
produced, except some noble instances of self-devotion? 
They are noble, to be sure ; but if a country produces nothing 
but this readiness in sacrificing one's self, it seems to be some- 
thing very negative. It is easy in this life to sacrifice every- 



Library of Useful Knowledge, published under the direction of the Society for 
the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



HYPOCRITICAL CRITICS. gg 

thing to a single object, as all the human faculties in all their 
variety and activity nearly, were sacrificed to the single object 
of making Sparta a warlike state : but the difficulty is to find 
out systems in which all the different parts have their proper 
sphere assigned them. And yet (he added after a pause), 
Sparta forms after all a beautiful part of the whole picture of 
favored Greece. • 

Hypocritical Critics. — [We had conversed on some silly 
remarks made in a public paper on his Roman History, 
charging him with scepticism, and made in a tone which be- 
trayed but too openly that the writer wished to infuse into his 
criticism the accusation of infidelity, though he had not the 
boldness to do so.] 

There was a time, Mr. Niebuhr said, when a man might 
well have feared for his liberty, and perhaps for his life too, 
had he dared to assert what I have stated. The philologists 
would have cried treason, and the theologians would have 
considered it an attack upon themselves. Public opinion 
would have stoned him. And even now there are a great 
many people who dare not express what they think upon this 
point, because they feel that they would render themselves 
ridiculous. 

[I said that I actually had seen an article against Wolf's 
substituting several Homeric poets for one Homer, winding 
up with a declaration that, if this theory were allowed to 
pass, no safety would any longer exist for the Mosaic writings, 
and we should soon see a number of Mosaic writers substi- 
tuted for the one deliverer of the Hebrews. It was an Eng- 
lish article which had resorted to this kind of reasoning 
backwards, so common among the enemies of calm and manly 
search for truth. I added : " It is very true, I never shall 
forget my feelings when the results of Wolf's inquiries were 
first explained to us in school. It was the feeling of real 
grief. I had lost a beau-ideal : the blind, inspired, venerated 
rhapsodist was gone."] 

Well, said Mr. Niebuhr, and you know that he was very 
furiously attacked by some philologists as a barbarian, de- 



100 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

stroying one of the finest images we had of antiquity. I 
understand what you felt perfectly well. I felt the same; but 
truth remains truth, and certainly you would not wish me to 
withhold results at which I believe I have properly arrived. 
It appeared to many much more delightful to imagine a sepa- 
rate deity guarding every tree, every flower to be sacred to 
another god, than to believe in one God ruling over all and 
every thing : should they have rejected him because this 
belief destroyed the dreams of their childhood ? Nothing in 
this world is easier than to enlist a common and popular pre- 
judice against a man. Be always extremely careful whenever 
you hear a universal cry against a man for having stated 
something in religious or scientific matters. As for the fear 
of criticism, it only shows weakness. I never yet have found 
a man who feels perfectly secure in his belief that shuns 
inquiry into the Bible. At any rate, such attacks as those 
against Wolf or myself come with very bad grace from Prot- 
estants. 

[Truth, I replied, seems to be considered by many people 
like a thing — something without them — an apple they may 
eat or not; but not as the one great object of ail life and 
existence — the absorbing duty of man — that in searching 
which we alone approach God !] 

Very often, he rejoined, speaks egotism, which does not 
wish to be disturbed ; or littleness of mind, which has not 
the courage to acknowledge a long-cherished error ; or inter- 
est, when endeavors are made to make us believe that a holy 
zeal alone prompts the persecutor. 

The Romans essentially Farmers. — It is a very great 
mistake to consider the Romans as exclusively a warlike 
people. They were essentially farmers ; they loved farming, 
and their greatest men paid much attention to it. This cir- 
cumstance must always be remembered in studying Roman 
history : it alone explains a variety of phenomena in their 
political development. My knowledge of country life and 
farming, as well as my acquaintance with the history of the 
Ditmarsians, have greatly assisted me in my historical inqui- 



HIS INTERCOURSE WITH OTHER SCHOLARS. ioi 

ries. Those Ditmarsians were a very peculiar race — as gal- 
lant lovers of liberty as ever existed. 

[When I travelled with him through the Campagna Felice 
and in Upper Italy, he often exclaimed :] 

There, see what excellent farmers these Italians are ; how 
they cultivate their fields with the care of gardeners ! It was 
always so : Romans loved farming. 

Waste of Time. — People had formerly much more time 
than we have : only consider all the time eaten up by morn- 
ing calls and evening parties. I speak of the scholars by 
profession. Otherwise they could not have written so many 
folios and quartos. 

Metaphysics. — I take peculiar care that metaphysics do 
not infuse themselves into my study of history. It ought to 
be possible that two scholars, adhering to two totally different 
philosophical systems, should arrive at the same results as to 
the historical growth and unfolding of a nation. 

I have given up reading metaphysical books. 

Jacobi. — Jacobi was an uncommonly pure man. He always 
appeared to me like a being from a better sphere, tarrying only 
for a short time among us. It is well that such beings appear 
here from time to time ; they encourage poor mortals. 1 

Mr. Niebuhr's Intercourse with other Scholars. — In 
that bitter time of oppression by the French we had a philo- 
logic circle in Berlin : Schleiermacher, Buttmann, Boeckh, 
were members. We improved much by each other ; and how 
delightful were those evenings ! We informed, encouraged, 
rectified, enlivened each other. 

[As to Schleiermacher and Buttmann I am sure I am cor- 



1 Frederick Henry Jacobi was a distinguished German philosopher. The En- 
cyclopaedia Americana says of him : " Jacobi's works are rich in whatever can 
attract elevated souls, yet the opinions respecting him are very different. He 
nas been called the German Plato, on account of the religious glow in his meta- 
physical writings; but, whatever opinions may be entertained respecting his 
philosophy, all admit that he was a most exemplary man, truly revered by all 
who had the good fortune to be acquainted with him. His philosophy, among 
other traits, is characterized by an aversion to systems, all of which, he maintains, 
when consistently carried out, lead to fanaticism." 



102 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

rect; and I think I made no mistake, at the time I wrote 
down this aphorism, when I placed the name of that dis- 
tinguished philologer, Mr. Boeckh, with the two others. 
Whether Mr. Niebuhr mentioned also Spalding I do not 
recollect. — I may be permitted to copy the end of the preface 
of Mr. Niebuhr's history : 

" Therefore do I bless the beloved memory of my departed 
Spalding; therefore, too, allow me openly to express my 
thanks to you, Savigny, Buttmann, and Heindorf, without 
whom, and without our deceased friend, I should certainly 
never have had the courage to undertake this work ; without 
whose affectionate sympathy and enlivening presence it would 
hardly have been accomplished." 

Schleiermacher writes, in the preface to the first edition of 
his masterly translation of Plato, dated April, 1804, "I am 
obliged for essential assistance in the translation to my 
friends G. L. Spalding and L. F. Heindorf, in respect to 
finding out that which is correct, as well as to preventing 
mistakes."] 

The Vatican. — There are immense treasures in the Vati- 
can, but it is impossible to make proper use of them. I am 
now favored by Maio, at least as much as any one ; but it is 
not to be compared to other libraries. There is an ill-placed 
jealousy all the time fettering the student, and very un- 
becoming so noble an institution. Besides, the time allowed 
to work there is much too short. 

Caliphs. — It was a grand idea, indeed, on which the an- 
cient Arabian law was founded, that no caliph should have 
the right to spend more than he could earn by the labor of 
his hands. Besides this, the fifth part of the booty belonged 
to him ; but in those times of Arabian greatness a caliph 
would have been considered very mean who did not again 
distribute his share. At present, they generally sell their 
handiwork at enormous prices : it often ruins a man to be 
singled out by a dey for the peculiar grace of being allowed 
to buy the work of the ruler. 

Sclavonic. — I think the old Sclavonic language, as spoken 



IDEA OF IMPURITY ATTACHED TO WOMAN. 



103 



in Servia, is the most perfect of the living European lan- 
guages : it has quite the honesty and power of the German 
language, and a philosophical grammar. The Russians used 
to laugh at me when they found me studying the Sclavonic 
languages; so little are they yet a nation as not to love 
their vernacular tongue. 

The Idea of Impurity attached to Woman. — [I had 
read in the church of Santa Praxede, in Rome, a prohibition 
against one of the chapels, in which there are preserved two 
saints, and a piece of the column to which Christ was tied 
when flagellated, to this effect : E defeso a tutte le donne di 
entrare in questa santissima capella sotto pena di scomonanza ; 
and when I asked the sexton for the reason, he said, " Because 
it is a very holy chapel." I told this to Mr. Niebuhr, and he 
said, shrugging his shoulders :] 

That has passed down from paganism with many similar 
notions. Women, you know, were prohibited from entering 
many temples in antiquity ; and to this day, in Asia, is the 
idea of impurity attached, in a great degree, to woman. The 
placing of wax images of ears, eyes, and limbs on the altar 
of a saint, is quite an antique custom. Bishops have some- 
times felt obliged to prohibit this peculiar kind of devotion 
when things were demanded from the patron saints or the 
Virgin, which ill accorded with religious purity. 

Palladiums. — I have to send a Palladium to Prussia; it 
costs at present two hundred scudi ; in the middle ages it 
cost about fifteen hundred. It may be taken as an index of 
the value the people put upon papal authority ; for money, as 
you well know, has greatly sunk in value. 

Battle at Weisserberg. — Had the battle at Weisserberg 
not been lost, Venice would have become Protestant: she was 
on the point of becoming so. The consequences which this 
fact would have produced are incalculable. 

Fra Paolo.— Fra Paolo is one of the finest and greatest 
characters that ever lived. 

Influence of Religion in Ancient and Modern Rome. 
— [We walked together, and read the following words written 



104 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



on a church : " Indulgentia plenaria quotidiana vivis defunc- 
Usque;" and I observed en passant, "If Scipio had seen 
this!"] 

Yes, replied Mr. Niebuhr; and yet the Romans were al- 
ways a people paying great respect to religious authority. 
There is a more natural connection between what we have 
just read and the times to which you allude than you 
probably are aware of. The pontifex was always a most 
important person ; and the very expression of sanctioning 
laws, that is, making them holy, or stamping them with sacred 
authority, shows the political importance of religion in ancient 
Rome. 

[In fact, the very word religion indicates the powerful binding 
influence it had with the Romans.] 

Loss of the Mexican Literature. — What an immense 
treasure for the history of civilization has been lost forever 
by the order of the first bishop in Mexico to burn the whole 
native literature. Perhaps a greater one than by Omar's con- 
flagration. No greater loss has ever happened. 

Punishment of Death for not being Victorious. — 
Admiral Byng was shot for having avoided the enemy, in- 
stead of having attacked them. He was executed for cow- 
ardice. However, he was perhaps sacrificed by the ministry. 
Venice punished the general who had not been victorious. 
The ancients, it is well known, were often not less exacting ; 
the behavior of the Athenians is well known ; and perhaps 
France would not have avoided an invasion in the time of 
the Republic had not the only question with the generals 
been — either victory or your head flies off. 

Spiritual Exercises. — Esercizj spirituali are spiritual ex- 
ercises dictated by the Offizio for minor offences, mostly per- 
formed in a convent, where people remain sometimes a week 
or a fortnight. At times they are very proper; at others not. 
All professors of the Propaganda and Sapienza, all priests, 
physicians, superintendents of archives, and people of the 
kind, who had taken the oath of allegiance to the French, 
were obliged to expiate their offence by such penances. 



LAND-OWNERS NEAR ALBANO. 105 

Some professors had to ascend the Scala Santa* (in the 
Lateran) on their knees. 

Chronicle of Cologne. — The chronicle of Cologne, which 
goes down to 1400, is perhaps the best German chronicle. 

Land-owners near Albano — Joseph in Egypt. — [When 
I lived with the minister and his family in Albano, passing 
the hottest time of the month of August in that lovely place, I 
once walked with him and his son to Lariccia. The relation 
of the actual cultivator of the soil to the owner was invariably 
a subject of deep interest to the great historian. He said :] 

This charming country does not belong to the inhabitants 
of any of these houses you see around you ; they have but 
a very small share of the produce for their labor. Lariccia 2 
was once rich, but a devastating famine raged here in the 
middle ages, and the poor inhabitants, to save their lives, 
were obliged to sell the land they owned to the family of 
the Savelli. They received grain, and retained but a pitiful 
share of the produce. Only four families of Lariccia es- 
caped and remained freeholders. The property of the Savelli 
passed into the hands of the powerful family of the Chigi, 
who soon after absorbed the property of the four remaining 
land-owners ; and thus this whole charming Vallariccia be- 
longs at present to the Chigi. The history of Joseph, as 
given in the forty-seventh chapter of Genesis, is a most dan- 
gerous precedent for an artful premier : " Give me thy land 
and liberty, and I give thee bread." I dare say it was resorted 
to when the bargain was made with the starving Lariccians. 

Greek Revolution — Great Requisites of a Liberator. 
— [One day we spoke, as we frequently did, of Greece, of her 
doubtful fate, and how beautiful her destiny might be.] 



1 La Scala Santa, close by the Lateran, is believed by the faithful to be the 
steps of the palace of Pilate, carried from Jerusalem to Rome. The blood of 
the Saviour fell on them, and they are held in so great veneration that none 
ascends them but on the knees. The concourse of the devout has been so great 
at all times that these marble steps have been worn out several times, and it has 
been found necessary to cover the original stairs with large flag-stones. 

2 Lariccia is the ancient famous Aricia. 



106 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

I know, said Mr. Niebuhr, that the whole revolution broke 
out too soon, and against the wish of the best leaders of the 
whole affair. Nothing is so difficult in matters of this kind 
as to have the rare moral power of waiting, and also the pene- 
tration and character to say, " Now is the time." Besides, it 
is hardly ever possible to keep from the best-planned mines 
political clowns, who put the match to them, or make them 
otherwise explode, before the proper, moment. Then is the 
time to show the man ; and few of those who plan most 
judiciously are possessed of that combination of powers 
which invents at the instant new means for every new emer- 
gency. This requires not only political wisdom, but political 
genius. 

Ali Pacha's Courage. — Ali Pacha was the most coura- 
geous man of the age. In every movement of his life he 
was himself. 

[Is it not difficult, I observed, to designate him as the most 
courageous man of his time? How could this be ascer- 
tained? However, let us compare him to some one; to 
Napoleon, for instance: Do you believe him firmer than 
Napoleon ?] 

I do, he replied. You may imagine that I do not believe 
the foolish stories of Napoleon's cowardice ; but I do believe 
that Ali Pacha would not have turned pale, had he, instead 
of Napoleon, entered the Legislative Hall on the 1 8th of 
Brumaire. 

Count Deserre. — [Mr. Niebuhr felt the most lively esteem 
for Count Deserre, keeper of the seals of France during the 
administration of the Duke of Decazes : an intimate friend- 
ship existed between both. He said once to me :] 

Count Deserre is the deepest reflecting Frenchman I know. 
He reminds me of that bygone French race of grave, think- 
ing men, who seem to have become extinct with the night of 
St. Bartholomew. I feel a real love for that man. 

Visit to Pompeii with Count Deserre. — [Mr. Niebuhr 
saw Count Deserre frequently during our visit to Naples, 
where the latter was then French ambassador. Both the 



COUNT DESERRES KNOWLEDGE OF KLOPSTOCK. 10 y 

families visited Pompeii together. When we were walking 
through the ashes, up to our ankles, Mr. Niebuhr said :] 

" It must be acknowledged that had Joseph remained here, 
we should be able to see more of the ancient city, and prob- 
ably walk more comfortably." 

" Undoubtedly," answered the Count; "but I should not 
have the rare pleasure of walking with you here." 

Klopstock — Count Deserre's Knowledge of him. — 
[Count Deserre, born in 1774, was very young when, in-1791, 
he emigrated. He was obliged to support himself by keeping 
school in a town in Suabia— -Biberach, if my memory does 
not deceive me — where he made himself perfectly acquainted 
with German literature, which he continued to study in Ham- 
burg, where Napoleon had appointed him president of the 
court of appeal, after that Hanse town had been declared a 
bonne ville of the grand empire. Conversing, on our excur- 
sion to Pompeii, of German authors, it was observed that few 
Germans ever read the whole Messiah, as the Paradise Lost 
is known by but few English.] 

" There," said Mr. Niebuhr to Count Deserre, " put my 
young friend here to the blush, and recite a passage of Klop- 
stock. I dare say he has not read it. I should be surprised 
if he had." 

I answered, that " I must ask his pardon, though I would 
frankly admit that probably I should not have read the whole 
had I not been in prison, where I found time to read a number 
of authors until then neglected by me." 

" But can you recite a passage ?" replied Mr. Niebuhr ; and 
he himself quoted a pretty long one. 

Count Deserre then followed, and pronounced an equally 
long one ; while I could do nothing but repeat the first six or 
eight hexameters, and feel ashamed. 

The French. — " I believe," said Mr. Niebuhr to Count 
Deserre, " that few things would have a more salutary effect 
upon the French nation than a return to a very Gareful and 
thorough study of philology and antiquity. It would con- 
tribute to steady them and make them honor history ; and, 



108 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

therefore, to consider themselves more as but one link in the 
great chain of nations." 

" Yes," said the Count, " it would somewhat lead off our 
minds from eternal schemes, and would induce people not to 
seek everything in futurity." 

Napoleon and the Triumphal March of Alexander, by 
Thorwaldsen. — [Mr. Niebuhr told Count Deserre that Thor- 
waldsen had executed his beautiful Triumphal March of 
Alexander, in bass-relief, in an almost incredibly short time, 
for the reception of Napoleon on his visit to Rome, in one of 
the rooms of the Papal palace.] 

" For so it was ordered," continued Mr. Niebuhr; " and it 
might be a question whether Thorwaldsen would have pro- 
duced so noble a piece of work had he not been obliged to 
create forthwith and for him. His energy was concentrated." 

" It was this concentration of energy in others," replied 
Count Deserre, " in which Napoleon was so great a master. 
No man ever understood so thoroughly the great secret of 
making every one work and produce. High or low, politician 
or artist, it was all the same ; he made every one exert him- 
self to the utmost of his ability. He made the whole world 
march, and march according to his plans." 

Small Houses in Antiquity. — [Conversing in Pompeii on 
the limited space of the houses and temples, and the actually 
diminutive dimensions of apartments, Count Deserre had 
observed that the ancients could have had no great idea of 
domestic comfort. Mr. Niebuhr replied :] 

Our ideas of time and space are quite relative. All their 
distances were smaller than ours, at least at those times when 
the style in which these houses were built originated. 

[I asked whether there was not another reason perhaps to 
be found in this, that absolutism, or unbounded power, delights 
in vast dimensions, as Asia and the palaces of imperial Rome 
testify, while a civic spirit produces smaller buildings ?] 

Certainly, said Mr. Niebuhr : look at the small houses and 
rooms in England. This, however, does not apply to the 
huts of the actually oppressed. 



CLAUSVRA OF CONVENTS. . 109 

[Were my object to give my views, I would extend, as well 
as modify, my remark ; but it is to give what Mr. Niebuhr 
said.] 

Domestication of the Lazzaroni. — It was a wise measure 
of the French administration in Naples to give work to the 
Lazzaroni, and to pay them partly in money, partly in house- 
hold utensils, especially mattresses and things of that kind. 
Domesticate a man, and you civilize him. Some, probably, 
sold their mattresses and continued to sleep in their baskets, 
but some did not. A mattress induced them to buy a bed, 
to sleep in a room, to provide some more furniture — in fact, 
to become domestic 1 in the true sense of the word. 

Joseph Bonaparte's Government in Naples. — Historical 

facts must be acknowledged; , who kngws more about 

the whole government of Naples than perhaps any one else, 
says that Joseph Bonaparte's government would have given 
a great elan to the arts and sciences, trade and everything, 
and would have established honesty in the administration — 
si cela est possible in this country, he added, shrugging his 
shoulders. 

Influence of the Crown. — A constitutional monarchy 
cannot get along without a considerable influence in the 
popular branch of the representatives. 

Pisa. — Pisa gives the student of the middle ages in Italy 
those clear perceptions which Pompeii affords to the student 
of antiquity. 

Clausura of Convents. — [Mr. Niebuhr, his son Marcus, 
and myself visited a convent, the monks of which appeared 
greatly alarmed from suspecting little Marcus to be a girl ; 
owing, probably, to his long and bland ringlets. They hesi- 
tated giving us permission to enter; and when they would 
not even trust Mr. Niebuhr's positive assurance that the in- 
dividual in question was a boy, he said, with a somewhat 
sarcastic smile :] 



1 The English reader must here remember that the word domestic is derived 
from domus, house. The German word which Mr. Niebuhr used was hauslick, 
from haus, house, literally translated housish, if such a word might be formed. 



HO- REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

Pray, how do your consciences get over the female fleas, 
which, I dare say, are in goodly abundance in your convent ? 

[The ever ready, Ah! chevnoV che dicaf was here also the 
answer. However, the permission was granted. On our way 
home, Mr. Niebuhr said :] 

You smiled at my remark about the fleas: well, do you 
know that many convents exclude female cats as within the 
clausura? However, something may be said in favor of ex- 
cluding domestic animals of different sexes from a community 
the character of which is intended to be essentially contem- 
plative. 

Measures which would Promote the Cultivation of 
the Soil in many Parts of Italy. — [During our residence 
in Albano we visited the Rotunda. Mr. Niebuhr believed an 
antique wall to have been built by Domitian for an encamp- 
ment of the Germans. We then saw the church, of St. Paul 
— a convent of missionaries, where Mr. Niebuhr said :] 

Two measures would very rapidly and essentially promote 
the welfare of Italy : if the largest land-owners — for instance 
here, the Princes Chigi — were obliged to rent out the greater 
part of their estates as fee-farms, so that the cultivator might 
become again, in part at least, the owner of the land ; and if 
permission were granted to every inmate of a convent to leave 
it with an appropriate pension for life. Wherever all the 
members of a convent should agree to avail themselves of 
this permission, a capital might be created out of the property 
of the convent, part of which might be appropriated for the 
support of the monks ; to whom, nevertheless, the hope ought 
to be held out that they would place themselves in a still 
better situation by some useful employment — for instance, as 
teachers, as assistants in hospitals, or printing-offices of govern- 
ment. The rest of the convent's property ought in such cases 
to be made at once productive. But no robbing on the side 
of government, no mere swallowing up of all this valuable 
property by the treasury — in short, no confiscation ! On the 
contrary, its wise appropriation ought to form at once a part 
of this system of secularization, which in course of time must 



THOR WALDSEN. 1 1 1 

take place : for it cannot be supposed that Italy will be for- 
ever deprived of her prosperity by this immense waste. Con- 
vents have done much good, and were once quite according 
to the spirit and even the wants of the age ; but times change. 
What is wise to-day may be the contrary a hundred years 
hence. Some convents need not be dissolved. 

Mr. Niebuhr does not want a Title of Nobility. — I 
have been asked whether I wish for a title of nobility. I never 
could bring myself to accept of such an offer. I should feel 
as if I were insulting the memory of my father, whom I am 
far from resembling. 

Thorwaldsen. — Thorwaldsen has not that plastic certainty 
or firmness which distinguishes the ancients in so high a de- 
gree. You can see in Thorwaldsen that he works from with- 
out; you see but the surface. It is different with the works 
of the ancient masters ; they look as if they had grown from 
within. 1 

[I answered : I am sorry my feeling is in this case so di- 
rectly opposite to yours. But yesterday I saw again Thor- 
waldsen's incomparable Shepherd-Boy and his Graces; and 
in looking at them jt became suddenly clear to me how the 
ancient artist fell in love with the work of his own hand, and 
prayed to the gods to breathe life into it. I felt a shudder 
after contemplating those heavenly images, when I thought 
that they were but of stone, subject to every mechanical law 
which physical nature has to obey. I cannot help declaring, 
at the risk of being thought a heretic, that some works of 
Thorwaldsen's, among which I count the Shepherd-Boy, seem 
to me equal to the most perfect sculptures of antiquity. At 
the same time, it is Thorwaldsen through whom I have become 
initiated in the ancient art. I have often gone with delight 



1 That I give this sentiment of Mr. Niebuhr merely with a view more accurately 
to characterize him, not Mr. Thorwaldsen, is clear. I have given already in the 
preface my opinion with regard to Mr. Niebuhr's sensibility in the sphere of the 
fine arts. It may be interesting to us to know the opinion of a Napoleon on 
Homer, in order to judge the hero ; but his praise can hardly enhance our ven- 
eration for the poem. 



112 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

through the Vatican — a delight I had never experienced before, 
and how differently appeared to me all these witnesses of 
ancient perfection after I had understood Thorwaldsen ! At 
least, I hope and feel I have understood him. 

All Mr. Niebuhr replied was :] 

And would you say the same of Canova ? 

[Certainly not, I said.] 

Character of Napoleon. — [I had returned from a visit to 
the Capitol, and remarked how much I had been struck with 
the resemblance of the mouth, chin, and cheek of the colossal 
head of Claudius to the corresponding parts of Napoleon; 
and that it had surprised me how all the Caracallas, Domitians, 
etc., had the large round chin of Napoleon.] 

Nevertheless, Mr. Niebuhr said, Napoleon was not cruel. 
He would not indeed hesitate to sacrifice human life in order 
to obtain his political objects ; but he had no pleasure in 
destroying it, still less in inflicting pain : nor would he inflict 
death for mere vengeance ; though I believe it cost him but 
little to order any sacrifice if he thought it necessary. In his 
character there prevailed too much of an iron will to hesitate 
in such a case. 

Emigres. — I recollect, when Napoleon permitted the emi- 
grants to return, my friends whom I had among them would 
ask me how I thought it would agree with their duty were 
they to make use of the permission. I invariably told them 
that they ought to return : whoever ruled, usurper or not, 
France was their country, and to France they ought to return. 
The English have proper views respecting the new govern- 
ments and dynasties. 

Napoleon. — Napoleon knew how to break men like dogs. 
He would trample upon them, and again show them a piece 
of bread and pat them, so that they came frisking to him : and 
no monarch ever had so many absolute instruments of his 
absolute will as Napoleon. I do not speak only of , his im- 
mediate servants ; princes and sovereigns showed themselves 
equally well broken. 

Martyrs. — [We visited the Temple of Claudius, or the 



MONTE CAVO. 113 

Church of St. Stefano Rotondo, where Pomarancio and An- 
tonio Tempesta have tried their skill and ingenuity in painting 
all varieties of martyrdom.] 

The martyrs, Mr. Niebuhr observed, were tortured enough, 
but most of these representations are fictions. So much for 
history ; and as to the fine arts, the disgusting is certainly not 
their sphere. 

An Antique Knife of Stone. — [During our residence in 
Albano, he had heard that an ancient knife, made of stone, had 
been found near Cori, the ancient Cora, the town of Latium,- 
on the confines of the Volsci, which the reader will remember 
having frequently found mentioned in Mr. Niebuhr's History. 
He asked me whether I would get it for him ; and I sallied forth 
on horseback, with my gun across the saddle, as if I was 
making an excursion in Greece. The country was unsafe at 
that time," and my way lay through the mountains, off the 
main road. Desirous as Mr. Niebuhr was of obtaining the 
knife, he hesitated when I came to take leave, and I had to 
persuade him to let me go. I was obliged to pay a high price 
for the antique knife, as the peasant who had found it, near the 
Temple of Hercules on Corimonte, easily saw that I had come, 
for the purpose of buying his knife, from a considerable dis- 
tance. I had to ask my landlord for this peasant, and my 
errand was soon known all over the little place. When I re- 
turned from my journey through a most interesting part of 
classical country, on which I fain would dwell longer, did not 
the length of this preamble already far exceed the space which 
the remark of Mr. Niebuhr will occupy, he was much pleased 
with the spoil, and said :] 

This knife was used only for sacrifices after the conclusion 
of peace. It is very old. Never mind the price ; with me 
these things have somewhat the value of relics ; I am glad 
you have got it. 

Monte Cavo. — [I ascended Monte Cavo with him ; I en- 
joyed that vast and instructive view with Mr. Niebuhr. What 
I enjoyed, and saw, and learned from that spot is strongly 
engraven in my mind. My eyes — and I have the fortune of 
Vol. I.— 8 



U4 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



possessing peculiarly good ones — swept over that extensive 
plain, of which every part is of deep classical interest; for 
here it is where giant Rome, which ruled the universe, and 
still affects the life and thought of every one of us, was reared. 
The dark blue ocean, calm, placid, pure, and unaffected by all 
the ages that have passed over its waves, told, like a great 
witness, of the early bards inspired by its dangers and its 
beauties ; of the Roman fleets sent to Carthage or to Spain ; 
of the Saracens, who landed and plundered here; and of all 
deeds down to the latest times, when the British hero of the 
sea flew from isle to isle, and shore to shore, as if these waters 
with all their winds were his domain. When, too, I saw the 
distant islands, and even that of Giglio, 1 I could not help 
breaking forth in words which expressed how powerfully his- 
tory, Nature, his presence, the lovely child, the convent where 
Jupiter had once his temple, the traces of early ingenuity — of 
ages long, long past, the road still in good order, though made 
thousands of years ago — how powerfully all this affected me. 
Here, said I, a historian must feel his vocation, or never; and 
here too, or nowhere, man must feel humble. The monk who 
pointed out to us the different distant objects said, that on pe- 
culiarly favorable days Corsica and Sardinia could be discerned 
in the light of the setting sun. Mr. Niebuhr's pleasure was 
exceedingly great, and only diminished by not being able to 
see as far as I could. I think the passage in his History where 
he speaks of Alba, and the sight from the top of this moun- 
tain, and the ancient works near it, bears the stamp of his 
feelings when on this spot ; though he had to restrain them 
by that calmness of style which is necessary for a work de- 
scribing the history of a nation, and not the feelings and ex- 
perience of an individual. 2 We remained a long time at this 
sacred place, and I remember that he repeatedly said, Could I 
but borrow your eyes !] 

Indeed, said he, this spot is noble; and I should be willing 



1 The ancient Igilium. 

2 See Niebuhr's History of Rome, English translation, vol. i. pages 168 and 
169. 



MONTE CAVO. 



115 



to give much to have enjoyed the view from Acrocorinth as 
you describe it. 1 Views of this kind are exceedingly in- 
structive; and they correct the image always formed in our 
minds of countries and places of which we read or hear much. 
I wish, however, I had your eyes. 

[I asked him whether he had met with the same difficulty 
that I had frequently found in Greece, of impressing the real 
topographic picture of a country on my mind without any 
admixture of that image which I had previously formed — 
contracted, I might almost say : for so vividly was I impressed 
with the representations of certain places and territories of 
antiquity, as well as of modern times, before I had seen them, 
merely from reading or hearing often of them, that I actually 
had found it difficult, in some cases, entirely to erase the pre- 
vious image, and to substitute for it the correct one obtained 
by personal observation.] 

I have experienced this difficulty in a degree, but by no 
means so much as you have, for your imagination is much 
livelier. It is one of the drawbacks you people with an active 
imagination have for the pleasures you derive from the same 
source. 

[It would be difficult Indeed, I observed, to decide on which 
side, in the end, the balance sinks— the scale of pleasure or 
pain.] 

A lively imagination is a great gift, Mr. Niebuhr said, pro- 
vided early education tutors it. If not, it is nothing but a 
soil equally luxuriant for all kinds of seeds. 

[It is my habit to make on spots, such as that on which we 
then were, panoramic croquis ; that is to say, I draw the prom- 
inent objects around me as they present themselves with 
regard to situation in this half perspective, half bird's-eye 
view. I have found them most valuable memoranda for my 
Journal ; and when I made one on this spot, Mr. Niebuhr 
very much approved this way of writing down a vast view.] 

1 In my Journal during my stay in Greece, mentioned in a note to the preface. 
A translation of the passage alluded to in the text appeared in The Stranger in 
America, quite at the end of the work. 



Il6 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

The Fall of Prussia. — [The same day, when we ascended 
the mountain in the morning on our asses, we saw oak-trees, 
which, by a series of associations, led him to tell me the fol- 
lowing simple anecdote :] 

When, after the battle of Jena, everything seemed to be lost 
for Prussia, I one day, on my journey to Konigsberg, talked 
with the coachman, an old peasant, on the deplorable state of 
things. " Well," said the peasant, " I don't know how it is ; 
that battle of Jena is but one battle, after all ; and I have never 
yet felled a sound old oak with one blow. It cannot be all 
lost." Had but all thought like this peasant it might have 
ended differently. 

[If all had thought like the peasant, the oak would have 
been sound ; but that the tree fell by one stroke is the very 
proof that the oak was not sound.] 

Canova. — [A gentiluomo of the Papal court, dressed in 
black, with a sword, informed the minister of the death of 
Canova. I happened to be present ; Mr. Niebuhr said :] 

There is one good man less ! Canova was an excellent 
man, liberal in a rare degree, kind, without envy or jealousy, 
faithful, pious, and of a reflecting mind withal. He felt a true 
attachment to Pius VII., which was probably increased by the 
misfortunes of the Pope and his dignified demeanor in affliction. 
Canova would speak of him with a warmth which was truly 
edifying. I like his idea of making a picture for the church 
of the little village of his birth. Don't you believe that such 
a work will of itself give certain moral elan to the whole 
little Possagno ? It will raise the morale of the village ; it 
establishes a visible connection between the people of that 
obscure place and a gifted and successful man, which is leaving 
a great legacy. So are public statues of great moral value ; 
they excite, remind, teach : how very superficial are those who 
think they are but proofs of overwrought gratitude or flattery! 
To be sure, they have been abused — what has not? Canova 
was ever ready to assist and guide young artists ; and his idea 
of establishing prizes for the most successful among them was 
excellent. 



INDULGENCES. 



117 



[This latter observation may stand in some connection with 
the fact that Mr. Niebuhr, after his return from Rome, appro- 
priated his salary, as professor in the University of Bonn, to 
prizes to be awarded to the best treatises on subjects selected 
and offered by himself.] 

Indulgences. — [I had visited the church del Nome di Maria, 
erected on the square of the column of Trajan in commemora- 
tion of the liberation of Vienna from the Turks in the year 
1683, and had found there, on a marble slab, the following 
inscription : 

PER CONCESSIONE DEI SOMMI PONTIFICI SISTO V. INNOCENZO 
XII. BENEDETTO XIV. E PIO VI. CONFERMATA DAL REGNANTE 
PIO VII. CHIUNQUE VISITA OUESTA CHIESA ADEMPIENDO LE ALTRE 
OPERE INGIUNTE, ACQUISTA TUTTE LE INDULGENZE ANNESSE 
ALLA VISITA DI QUALUNQUE ALTRA CHIESA DI ROMA. 

(By concession of the pontiffs Sixtus V. Innocent XII. 
Benedict XIV. and Pius VI. confirmed by the reigning Pius 
VII., whoever visits this church, fulfilling at the same time 
the other works enjoined [in order to obtain indulgences] 
obtains all indulgences annexed to the visit of any other 
church of Rome.) 

I told Mr. Niebuhr of this sweeping indulgence, comparing 
it to the treaties which grant terms " equal to the most favored 
nations." He said :] 

You smile ; yet this very expression has been used in 
granting religious favors to churches or societies. 1 It is sur- 



1 An altar is called privileged when any peculiar indulgence is attached to it. 
When we visited the church of Santa Agnesia, the under-curate, who showed the 
church, told us, what in fact is well known to be matter of general belief, that 
as soon as a mass is read at the chief altar a soul leaves, and needs must leave, 
purgatory — " Tanto e privileggiata la nostra chiesa /" he continued. " Per altro 
se trova indidgenza plenaria per Vanima per laquale la messa e detta a questo 
altare" (pointing at an altar), " al giorno della festa della nostra chiesa. E se 
Vanima pella quale se legge la viessa non sta piu nel purgatorio, allora esce una 
altra, perche uscire debbe una a forza della messa." 

(Thus privileged is our church ! Moreover, plenary indulgence is to be found 



Il8 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

prising that the Roman church has obstinately clung to car- 
rying out the idea of indulgences to so gross an extent ; for, 
I believe, had Rome promptly discountenanced the shocking 
abuse of indulgences as practised in Germany before the 
Reformation, the latter might have been retarded for a long 
time. " Don't ask too much," is a maxim of the greatest 
importance, as well for a poor wagoner who lives by the labor 
of his horse as for a king or pope — for missionaries, success- 
ful parties, nations, indeed for every one. 

[I observed that if a person would make a systematic tour 
through Rome, and obtain all the indulgences offered by 
paying at the fixed days at the proper altars, he might easily 
acquire the indulgence of a million of years.] 

Undoubtedly, Mr. Niebuhr answered ; but you know that 
these indulgences, often granted at once for several thousand 
years, extend to purgatory, and if you do not stand in need 
of the whole, you may pass the balance to the favor of whom- 
soever you see fit. It is these things which make so many 
Italians atheists. They cannot swallow this, and therefore 
throw away everything else with it. Matters stand very ill in 
many Catholic countries on account of these extravagances. 
In South America hardly any people but women go to mass. 
And yet a truly pious and devout heart finds its way through 
all the mazes to God. There are many persons who leave 
these matters undecided, as every man is obliged to do in 
numerous cases in life, when, without giving his positive and 
well-considered assent, he nevertheless does not feel called 
upon to reform. And not a few of these are among the 
highest clergy, the popes themselves. But this is not what I 
wanted to say : I mean, there are some persons who devoutly 
believe every jot even of these things, and whose hearts 
nevertheless are pure as snow. — There was an old Franciscan 
formerly here who used to visit us frequently ; he is now 



for the soul for which mass is read at that altar there, on the day of the feast of 
our church. And if the soul for which the mass is intended has already left 
purgatory, another leaves that place, for one needs must leave by the power of 
the mass.) 



INDULGENCES. 



II 9 



bishop of Corfu. 1 I believe him as good and truly religious 
a man as I have ever known — abounding with the milk of 
human kindness ; and yet he believed in every doctrine and 
observance of the Roman church, in all her intolerant man- 
dates against us, and, I have not the slightest doubt, in all the 
miracles and whatever else his order believes of St. Francis. 
His natural religious constitution was too strong : I can 
imagine a saint under his serene image. Marcus was quite 
little at the time I knew this old man : and the child would 
often take the cord of the venerable Franciscan, and pull it, 
as if to play horse with him. I was sometimes afraid it 
might embarrass him, as being in his eyes somewhat a pro- 
fanation ; but he always smiled with the greatest kindness 
upon the child. 2 He, I am sure, would not have wished all 
heretics lost forever. : nor does he probably believe they will 
be, or feel so ; yet he may try to force it upon his mind as an 
article of his faith. Religion is so ethereal a thing, that as 
soon as you bring it down to articles of faith, aiming at the 
consistency which we expect in all other matters, we are led 
to consequences, some of which one or other cannot make 
part of his positive and living belief. There are hard things 
in the articles of the English church, in Calvinism, in the 
symbolic books (of the Lutherans) ; but God is wiser than all, 
and his power reaches hearts everywhere. 

[I added that I had observed a rapid increase in the number 
of years of offered indulgences at the various altars the 
nearer I came to Rome, until I found this abundance of in- 
dulgences in almost every chapel in Rome itself; while a poor 
man in Bohemia has to ascend a high hill on his knees, and 
obtains after all but nine years' indulgence. If it is natural, 
according to the whole system, that Rome abounds in indul- 
gences, since the absolving power to which many pious pil- 
grims travel to have their souls unburdened resides here, a 
distinction ought to be made between natives and strangers ; 

1 I believe I am right, though it may be another of the Ionian Islands. 
8 What a subject for a picture ! equally excellent in point of art on account of 
the noble contrasts it offers, as for its meaning. 



120 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

otherwise the former have it indeed too easy : and though it 
may be considered expedient to attach great political privi- 
leges to the birthright of an individual, it would seem as ill- 
according with the whole idea of a Christian church to attach 
privileges of such magnitude for the state of the soul to the 
mere domicile in Rome.] 

Nothing can be more curious, he answered, than the details 
and application of some of these doctrines. It has often sur- 
prised me when I have to obtain dispensations for Prussian 
subjects ; yet it is all but systematic consistency. 

Visit to the Collegio Romano. — [Of the golden and 
finely-executed collar found in the sepulchre of the Emperor 
Otho II. and now preserved in the Collegio Romano, Mr. 
Niebuhr thought that it had been brought from Constanti- 
nople with the empress. Nothing seemed to please him so 
much in the Collegio as the work representing the Boy 
catching the Cricket.] 

Mr. Capuccini, the Secretary of Cardinal Consalvi. — 
Capuccini (then secretary of Cardinal Consalvi, secretary of 
state to Pope Pius VII.) is a man of rare merit and char- 
acter : he works exceedingly hard, and yet his salary is very 
small. The cardinal one day in conversation with me praised 
him much; in this I most heartily joined ; and I took occa- 
sion to allude to Capuccini's inadequate remuneration, and 
how he probably would be entirely forgotten on a change of 
the sovereign, which might so easily happen. The cardinal 
said he knew it, but he never would forget the important 
services which his secretary had rendered him. 

[Why, then, I afterwards asked, has he not yet promoted 
him?] 

Because, replied Mr. Niebuhr, he needs him. Perhaps he 
does not want him to feel independent. It is one of the 
severest trials of men in power to reward adequately their 
confidential assistants, and really working secretaries, if men 
of merit and talent. Few persons stand this test ; and Capuc- 
cini would not be the first of his class who interfered with 
his own career by his own usefulness. Were he not so indis- 



MR. CA PUCCINI. 121 

pensable to Cardinal Consalvi, he would be in the enjoyment 
of some fine living ere this. Ministers or monarchs have 
often been called ungrateful for not advancing their secretaries; 
yet this arises frequently not from ingratitude, but from the 
knowledge of their great value, and also from indolence, to 
which we are all subject. It is an uncomfortable thing to lose 
one's index, writer, thinker — everything, and have all the 
trouble over again of making the new secretary understand 
you. No officer, in fact, is so difficult to be found as a sec- 
retary who suits precisely. Sometimes they are purposely 
kept low, that they may not aspire at independence. 

Views of Antiquity. — [I had told Mr. Niebuhr that I 
owed to him a much more correct view of antiquity, or, I 
might say, feeling toward it. Until I had become acquainted 
with him, antiquity had been to me something totally sepa- 
rated from us, as if hardly the same springs of action were 
applicable to man in modern and in ancient times. I hardly 
ever had used my own feelings, joys, or griefs, as keys to 
understand the sentiments which inspired the ancient poets or 
writers. My visit to Greece had prepared me for a different 
conception of those times, so remote in years, and yet so near 
to us by the civilization we have derived from them, and by 
our education : but my intercourse with him had placed me, 
I hoped, in a more proper relation.] 

There were times, Mr. Niebuhr said, when people would 
have considered it almost like a degradation of the ancients, 
had a philologer attempted to explain their history or lan- 
guage by corresponding relations or phenomena of our own. 
The classical literature was superior to anything modern 
nations had at the time of the revival of the sciences ; they 
therefore received everything coming from the ancients with 
a reverence which would not allow a doubt of anything, and 
required no reconcilement of any contradictory statements in 
them. But you will observe that wherever a practical man, 
a statesman, for instance, occupied himself with the classics, 
how differently he treated them from the schoolmaster. The 
latter treated the classics as if they were something entirely 



122 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

beyond the sphere of reality ; and this, indeed, is still the case 
with many. On the other hand, there is such a thing as flip- 
pant impertinent familiarity, and such has not been very rare 
with the modern French before the Revolution. Its only 
object is to divert, from the contrast produced by a sudden 
comparison between the most remote objects and those of our 
daily and common life. This is merely to amuse, and can 
amuse the little-minded only. Sometimes, indeed, it may be 
witty ; but that is a different thing. 

Influence of Teutonic Tribes upon the Italian Lan- 
guage. — It is a constant saying with the Italians that the 
conquering nations, the Germans particularly, ruined the 
Latin language, and thus caused the Italian. They are much 
mistaken, for there is really very little Teutonic admixture 
in the Italian idiom. I speak of words ; as to grammatical 
forms, they are modern. The ancient verb and substantive 
ceased to continue as soon as the ancient spirit had fled. 
Besides, numberless formations of the Italian existed among 
Romans, though only among the low people. To change the 
termination us and um into o is nothing but a negligent pro- 
nunciation ; and there are inscriptions which show that this 
was not restricted to the very lowest circles only; in fact, it 
is a very natural change in speaking quick. 1 So, also, the 
use of habere as auxiliary is ancient : there are some passages 
in Greek and Roman writers which show this. 

[I replied that the use of the modern Greek fyo showed 
the same.] 

Certainly, he answered ; and as to the article, the many 
compound conjunctions, and the prepositions, you can trace 
all very easily. They originated during the low ages, when 
people had forgotten to speak with precision and manliness, 



1 The reader who is acquainted with Mr. Niebuhr's History of Rome will 
recollect the 634th note of vol. i. on page 218 et seq. in the English translation, 
where he gives two inscriptions, and then adds: "I have softened the rude spell- 
ing, and have even abstained from marking that the final s in prognatus, quoius t 
and the final m in Taurasiam, Cesaunam, Aleriam, optumum, and omnem, were 
not pronounced," etc. 



PRONUNCIATION OF THE LATIN. 



123 



and to perceive all the different relations with grammatical 
acuteness. Observe how many words children and low 
people require to tell a simple story, if they are not excited 
by passion. Passion, to be sure, is eloquent and brief. It is 
for the cultivated, and yet vigorous, manly mind, to speak 
and write concisely. 

Pronunciation of the Latin. — [On my question, which 
of the different ways of pronouncing Latin he thought best, 
he said that he had adopted the Italian pronunciation. On 
my farther question, why? he said:] 

I have a number of reasons ; but in fact the counter-ques- 
tion, Why should we not adopt the Italian pronunciation? 
would be a perfectly good answer. As to the pronunciation 
of the c, it is clear that the Romans did not pronounce it in 
the German way, Tsitsero ; this is altogether an uncouth 
northern sound. To pronounce it like Sisero (with hard s) 
is equally wrong : no inscription or other trace induces us to 
believe that the Romans used c as equivalent to s. Besides, 
if we see that each nation pronounces Latin according to 
the pronunciation of the vernacular tongue, it is preposter- 
ous to maintain that one or the other is the correct pro- 
nunciation, except the pronunciation of the Italian itself. 
That the g was not pronounced hard as the German, seems 
clear from the fact that most nations pronounce it soft. 
On the whole, Latin reads much better in the Italian way; 
and I think many passages of the poets require this pro- 
nunciation to receive their full value. People ought to agree 
to adopt this pronunciation ; for it is too ridiculous to find 
the same language pronounced differently in every country, 
and subjected to all the caprices of the various idioms. 
The Spaniards sometimes claim to be, by way of tradition, 
in possession of the true Roman pronunciation. It is equally 
preposterous that they whose language is so much more 
mixed, and whose country was never more than a province, 
should have retained a better pronunciation than the people 
of the mother-country! Italian is still, in a degree, a Latin 
dialect. 



124 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



Orthography. — [I asked him how he wrote a certain word; 
he answered the question, and then said :] 

In general, I always found those who occupy themselves 
chiefly with orthography small minds. Orthography is some- 
times not unimportant ; but small people only make a business 
of it, and propose the different changes. 1 

The Latin word "Obscenus." — [I observed to Mr. Niebuhr 
how ugly the Neapolitan women seemed to me. He said :] 

It is very possible, indeed, that obscenus, ugly, is derived from 
Opscus, Oscus, " like the Oscans," always an ugly race. The 
Romans may originally have used the word Oscan, signifying 
the early and uncouth inhabitants, somewhat as villain is used 
in English, meaning originally nothing but a villager ; or as 
the German Welshe (originally strangers) was used for Italians, 
and thence for the faithless, full of tricks. 2 

Ferdinand IV. of Naples. — [When we read the inscription 
on the pedestal of the statue of King Ferdinand IV. in the 
Studii at Naples, which is about as follows : " Ferdinando IV. 
augusto, etc., religionis et securitatis publicae Protectori in- 
victo," etc., he shrugged his shoulders, and said :] 

Well indeed ! invictus ! He was driven three times out of 
his capital ! 

St. Francis. — [We were on our way home from the cathe- 
dral of Assisi, the chief church of the Franciscans— for in 
Assisi their saint was born, and on the spot where now stands 
that beautiful minster he experienced his first impulse to de- 
votion — when Mr. Niebuhr said :] 

St. Francis was a great man. St. Benedict had just labored 
for the moral elevation of the higher classes. It was a neces- 
sary consequence of his system. The intention of St. Fran- 



1 I need hardly observe that Mr. Niebuhr meant to express his little regard for 
those only who think they are engaged in most important occupations when they 
propose new ways of writing, etc. ; for a man like him would have considered 
ignorance in the orthography of a language as unfavorably as any other kind of 
ignorance. 

a Verrius apud Fest. in Oscum derives the word obscenus from Opscus indeed, 
but because the Osci or Opsci turpi consuetudine olim laborasse dicuntur ; but 
not as equivalent to ugly, uncouth, and hence inauspicious, etc. 



ST. FRANCIS. 



125 



cis was to labor for the poorest and meanest. Much that now 
appears extravagant may not have been so in his time ; much 
may have been exaggerated afterwards, and some points in 
his character may have been actually extravagant. Where is 
the great man that has not his monomania ? Some of his 
miracles are invented, many may be true. I think they can 
be accounted for by implicit faith, which he commanded and 
required. That he could find, when but a young man, so 
many and such ardent followers, and draw up the rules of 
his order, so judicious for his age and his particular object, 
sufficiently shows that he was an extraordinary man. The 
Evangelium sine glossa is remarkable indeed, and, more than 
that, is great, far in advance ^of his age. When dialectics 
surrounded him everywhere, and the interpretations of the 
Bible were held far superior to the book itself, he penetrated 
all these mazes, and required the plain gospel. He wanted 
no property but such as the brethren could cultivate. This, 
however, changed immediately after his death. At the same 
time rose the order of the Dominicans — an order which re- 
ceived even from its very founder the stamp of persecution, 
and has gone on with blood and murder through the suc- 
ceeding centuries. It has frequently happened, indeed, that 
the Franciscans protected where the Dominicans persecuted. 

[I was glad to hear this opinion from his lips, and told him 
how much I admired the Morning Hymn of St. Francis. I 
was only sorry that the followers of these great men should 
immediately exceed the bounds of their veneration, and warp 
it by superstition, sometimes of repulsive grossness ; for, said 
I, a monk, with whom I walked over the convent of St. Fran- 
cis, on the Capitoline Hill, spoke of his patron saint as if he 
were at least equal to Christ, telling me some of the most ab- 
surd miracles. And this, I continued, reminds me of the nurse 
in the family of Mr. (then chaplain of the Prussian lega- 
tion), who one day said : " It is a great pity the Virgin Mary 
is not God; it would be much better for us, poor sinners, than 
it is now, when God is God."] 

St. Francis, said Mr. Niebuhr, was, about a hundred years 



126 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

after his death, actually believed by many to have been the 
Paracletus, or Comforter. No saint was ever more universally 
honored. 

Mr. Pertz. — I write legibly, and not slowly, and I do not 
work slowly; but I know of no person who can at all be 
compared, with regard to rapidity of working, to Mr. Pertz. 1 
He reads manuscripts with discriminating judgment, and 
makes extracts more quickly than others could merely copy. 
This kind of rapidity is very important to those engaged at 
all in studies like ours; and yet it is a thing quite unconnected 
with the other requisites of a thorough savant. 

Mr. Niebuhr's Knowledge of French.— I have read a 
great deal of French, not only the first-rate writers, but all 
the second- and third-rate too. I believe I write French 
correctly. 

Mistakes of the Cortes. — The Cortes committed several 
fatal blunders. They sold the commons. Many of the poor 
mountaineers, however, had nothing in the whole world but 
their share in the common ; they have thus become poor to 
starvation, and therefore violent Royalists. In the same 
manner they deprived the guards of their privileges. Such 
a body may be disbanded; but to let it exist, and yet injure 
it — deprive it of old privileges — is making so many armed 
enemies of them. 

Literary Power of Paris. — The literary dictatorship of 
Paris over France has had some good, but also many fatal 
consequences. The best book published in Marseilles or 
Bordeaux is hardly mentioned. Oest publie dans la prov- 
ince, is enough to consign the book at once to oblivion. It 
has produced uniformity, and therefore guarded in a degree 



1 George Henry Pertz, royal librarian and keeper of the archives at Hanover, 
made himself known in 1819 by his History of the Merovingian Major Domus. 
The Society for Promoting the Knowledge of Early German History {Societas 
pro aperiendis fontibus rerum Germanicarum mediicevi) sent him to Italy, where 
he collected most valuable materials for German history, from the year 1821 to 
1823. The society published his learned spoils in the fifth volume of its Ar- 
chives. In the years 1826 and 1829 he published two volumes folio, Monu- 
menta Germanice Historica. 



LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. 127 

against a certain literary licentiousness ; but it has also pro- 
duced tyranny in a sphere where tyranny is least supportable. 

Machiavelli — Segretario Fiorentino. — [We spoke of 
Machiavelli, and I observed how curious it was that he is so 
often styled II Segretario ; which seemed to me to agree little 
with the Italian custom generally followed.] 1 

Don't you know the reason ? Mr. Niebuhr replied. The 
censorship prohibited the Prince and some other works of 
Machiavelli ; hence it was prohibited to quote him, or, in 
fact, to print his name by way of citation ; but the substitu- 
tion of 77 Segretario Fiorentino for his name was not objected 
to. Thus, probably, this appellation became so common. 

Italian Versions of the Bible. — Diodati's Italian Bible 2 
is an excellent translation : some parts are most beautiful ; 
but it is by a heretic. The approved translation occupies, 
with all the explanations and interpretations, such a large 
number of volumes, that few Italians have it: hence the 
reading of the Bible in the Italian tongue is virtually pro- 
hibited. 

Liberty of the Press. — Perfect liberty of the press might 
be given as the highest reward to the best citizens. The state 
has so little to reward with. What is an order ! What sensi- 
ble man would give anything for such a thing !— except that 
the not receiving it may be a positive neglect or injury. To 
take absolute liberty of the press from men who are never- 
theless appointed to teach youth in universities is very incon- 
sistent. 

[I observed that if the state should always have to decide 



1 Though the Italians are most profuse in bestowing titles like eccellenza, which, 
in fact, any person with a whole coat may claim, they do not make much use of 
such titles as the above. In addressing persons, customs still exist in Italy which 
other nations have long passed by. The baptismal name, with the preceding 
signor, is continually used instead of the family name; and the charm with 
which so many remember Italy is probably owing, in part, to the peculiar feeling 
we have when we are all at once called by the name of our childhood, after 
having nearly forgotten that such is our name. 

2 La Sacra Bibbia, tradotta in lingua Italiana da Giovanni Diodati, di nation 
Lucchese, 1640. Stampata a Geneva. 



128 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

who is worthy of enjoying the liberty of the press, it would 
be no great liberty after all.] 

Perhaps so, he answered ; but it might be somewhat like a 
scientific peerage, never, or not easily, to be taken away. 

[The idea, undigested and impracticable as it was, not to 
view it from a higher point — that of right — was certainly very 
German ; inasmuch as the writing of books is drawn here 
within the sphere of political privileges, and therefore sup- 
posed to be very common throughout the nation ; which, in 
fact, it is.] 

Alexander Hamilton. — Alexander Hamilton was one of 
the most powerful minds of modern times. He had resources 
within him such as none of his contemporaries had. 

Divisibility of Land. — It is the duty of governments to 
prevent real estates from being divided into such small por- 
tions that they become utterly useless to the cultivator. Such 
a law existed in the Ditmarsian republic, and the constitution 
of Sweden contained a provision to the same effect. 

[I said that the country around Jena proved the truth of 
his observation perhaps more than any other country. Since 
then I have received a small publication — Report to the 
Minister of the Interior on the Parcelling of Farms and 
Cutting-up of Estates in the Province of Westphalia, 1824, 
by Mr. von Vincke, high-president of that province. The 
author of this official paper is the same Mr. von Vincke who 
is mentioned in a note at the beginning as the author of a 
work on the Domestic Administration of England, edited by 
Mr. Niebuhr. The pamphlet I have just mentioned states 
the fact that lawsuits have been brought into the courts on 
the Rhine for half a square foot of land. Its object is to 
answer the three questions proposed by the minister of the 
interior, to whom the report is directed : 

1. What is to be adopted as the minimum of a farm P 1 

2. What laws are requisite with reference to inheritance, 
forced sales, etc. ? 



1 The German is spannfahige Bauemhof, which means farms capable of 
keeping a team, and doing consequently the services enjoined upon these farms. 



CARNO T.— VALEZ.— VA UD ON CO UR T. 



129 



3. Is a limitation of mortgaging estates and indebting them 
advisable, or how may it be prevented by general measures? 

The work, though but a pamphlet of fifty-two pages, is of 
great interest, in a variety of respects, to the political economist ; 
and it has been mentioned here so fully with a view to direct 
attention to it, as it might otherwise be easily overlooked.] 

Last Wills made in Foreign Countries. — A Prussian 
has to make his last will in Rome according to Roman laws. 
The Prussian minister has not the power of an attorney 1 for 
these cases. He ought to have it ; for this want of proper 
power may expose the heirs of a Prussian subject to very 
great inconvenience. 

Truly Great Things. — Everything truly great, where mind 
acts upon mind, proceeds from the individual ; tyranny or 
grossness acts by masses. 

Carnot. — Carnot invented new tactics, and showed how to 
fight and conquer with them. While he was engaged in 
making the giant-plans for the five armies, he wrote a mathe- 
matical work of the highest character, and composed at the 
same time some very agreeable little poems. He was a mighty 
genius indeed ! 

Valez. — Valez is perhaps one of the best men that appeared 
in the Spanish revolution. 

General Vaudoncourt. — Guillaume de Vaudoncourt 2 is 
one of the best-informed officers that ever have written. I es- 



1 Justiz commissarius (commissary of justice), an officer peculiar to the Prus- 
sian hierarchy of justice, though, on the whole, corresponding to our counsellors 
and attorneys-at-law. 

2 General de Vaudoncourt was born in Vienna, Austria, of French parents, 
in 1772; educated in Berlin; and went in 1786 to France. He entered the 
French army in 1791, and gradually rose to the grade of general. He served 
with great distinction in various campaigns of Napoleon, who made use of his 
talents also in political affairs. His missions were various. Wherever he was sent 
by the emperor he behaved so honorably (and abstained so entirely from obtain- 
ing riches), that he was well received in Germany when he had to leave France 
after the restoration of the Bourbons. He has written numerous works, some 
of which appeared first in London. The one alluded to by Mr. Niebuhr is 
Histoire des Campagnes d'Annibal en Italie, 3 vols. 4*0, with an atlas, Milan, 
1812. 

Vol. I.— 9 



130 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



teem his work on Hannibal's campaigns very highly. His in- 
quiries into the precise route which Hannibal took are masterly. 

Klopstock. — [Our conversation had turned upon Klop- 
stock, whom Mr. Niebuhr had seen very frequently when in 
Hamburg: in fact, he spent a great part of the day, at least 
three times a week for three months, with that poet I col- 
lected the following by my various questions :] 

Klopstock used to like me ; he called me thou. 1 When a 
young man of twenty-six he visited Switzerland, after having 
published the first cantos of his Messiah. His journey was a 
real triumphal march. Old and young, men, women, and 
children met him. Klopstock did not like to speak of his 
Messiah ; he was not satisfied with the poem. His religious 
views had also undergone some change. He was usually 
content with a general impression of a subject; he did not 
care much for entering into details. His knowledge of Latin 
was not deep ; I assisted him in his grammatical inquiries with 
respect to this language. He was indolent, in spite of his 
love of skating, and slovenly. You know, of course, the fact 
that some people censured his skating as unbecoming the 
bard of the Messiah. He was always in good health. 

Horace. — However, Mr. Niebuhr said to me, when I had 
once asked his opinion of Horace, and frankly expressed my 
not relishing him so much as most people seemed or pretended 
to do — however, Horace was a great man 2 after all. In his 



1 The pronoun thou is used in Germany still more frequently than in France, 
as a mark of intimacy or affection. 

2 Mr. Niebuhr spoke German, in which the expression great man is used to 
signify much more than in English. In the United States particularly, this high 
epithet signifies very frequently nothing more than highly gifted, a man of rare 
talents. I have no doubt, therefore, that Mr. Niebuhr used this expression by way 
of conversational extravagance ; for he cannot be called great who, in a time like 
his, only sees the misery. A man may have a great mind, a great soul; but a 
great man must act, and in a way that influences posterity, creating something 
new. In this sense was Dante not only a great poet, but a great man. This brief 
disquisition reminds me of a saying of Schiller, which I may not have another 
equally convenient opportunity to relate, and which the reader will hear with 
pleasure. The late Professor Pfaff, in Halle, told me that Schiller, conversing 
with him on Herder and Goethe, said, " Herder is a siren ; Goethe is a great man." 



THE REMAINS OF SCIPIO.—SHAKSPEARE. 



131 



sermones you will find the deep and intense grief he felt for the 
state of the times, though externally he contrived to smile at 
it; yet it is a bitter smile. Except his odes, Horace ought 
never to be read in schools, for it requires extensive experience 
in real life to understand him. 

Ignatius Potocki. — Ignatius Potocki z is one of the finest 
characters, perhaps the finest of all, in the unhappy history 
of Poland : one can dwell with real pleasure on him. 

The Remains of Scipio. — When, in 1780, under Pius VI. 
— an age which has been called the modern Augustan age — 
the sepulchres of the Scipios were discovered, learned Van- 
dalism dragged forth the sarcophagi — for it was the custom of 
the Scipios to inter their dead — took out the remains, and 
would have thrown them on the field, when, in charity, they 
were bought and taken to Padua, where they are buried. 

Shakspeare early Transplanted to GeRxMany. — Those 
who lately revived German literature — I mean Klopstock and 
the contributors to the - Bremen Wochenblatt — were at first 
unacquainted with Shakspeare ; I mean, they had not properly 
studied the great poet, and were not then influenced by him. 
But a strolling company in the north of Germany performed 
some of his pieces, for instance, Hamlet, soon after the Thirty 
Years' War. How much these pieces were mutilated and tor- 
tured is another question ; perhaps they were not much more 
changed than they are at present on the English stage. 2 

Anticipating Pardons. — When the Ionian Islands were 
under the power of Venice, pardons could be obtained from 



That Schiller meant here a Platonic siren, making the music of the spheres, and 
not the decoying Homeric sirens, seems clear. 

1 Count Ignatius Potocki, cousin to Count Anthony Potocki, was the very 
counterpart to the latter, who betrayed his country to Russia. Ignatius was one 
of those Poles who drew up the ever memorable constitution of May 3, 1791. 
He was born in 175 1. 

2 A gentleman who has filled the highest station in the United States, and re- 
sided in the early part of this century in an official capacity in Berlin, said once 
to the writer that the only place where he had seen the genuine Shakspeare had 
been at Berlin ; alluding to the uncurtailed and unchanged state in which the 
dramas of that poet were performed in the Prussian capital. 



13 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



the governor for crimes not yet committed. Of course, a high 
price was asked. The same, I think, was done sometimes in 
the Grisons. It was in theory not worse than the anticipating 
indulgences, which were sold in Germany, to the scandal of 
every man who had the slightest feeling of morality. 

Servitude never existed in Asia. — Serfs, or bondsmen 
attached to the soil, 1 were unknown in Asia even in the 
early periods ; but the Hellenic tribes had this institution. 
The modern Greeks were never bondsmen, properly speaking ; 
nay, the Turks have perhaps abolished the institution in 
Moldavia and Wallachia. 

Protestants in Turkey. — Innumerable Protestants fled 
from Austria, previous to the reign of Joseph II., into Turkey, 
and founded large villages. 

Tolerance of the Mufti. — The last mufti but one was 
ordered to sign the permission of all Mussulmans to slaughter 
the Greeks. He proved from the Koran that he could not 
do it, and was banished to Rhodes. 

Turkish Faithfulness. — When Frederick II. sought at all 
costs to induce the Turks to make war against the Russians, 
he was answered, " Canst thou make twenty-five years of 
twenty?" An armistice existed between Russia and Turkey, 
which had still five years to run. 

Herodotus. — It is impossible to find a more truth-loving 
man than Herodotus, and yet he has reported several things 
which are not true. 

The Emperors Maximilian and Ferdinand — Gustavus 
Adolphus — Lutherans and Calvinists. — You cannot call 
Maximilian neutral ; he was more than neutral. He wished 
the chalice to be given to the laymen, and tried to induce the 
Pope to allow priests to marry : the greater part of his coun- 
sellors were Protestants. This is, indeed, more than merely 
neutral. But Ferdinand was dark, bigoted, cruel, and zealous. 
At his court in Graetz nothing but Spanish was spoken. In 



1 The German word is Leibeigner (whose body is owned). Perhaps I ought 
to have translated it by villain, but this again has a distinct English meaning. 



THE CAMPAGNA ROMANA. 



133 



this respect, too, Germany would have gained much had Gus- 
tavus lived to ascend the imperial throne. Gustavus had an 
essentially German education. He spoke and wrote German 
freely ; Ferdinand did not. Gustavus, from a Teutonic tribe, 
with his education, his feelings and dispositions, was more a 
German than Ferdinand, who was a Spaniard in feeling. Had 
Gustavus ascended the German throne, he would soon have 
been considered a German by the whole country, disposed as 
it was for the Reformation. But he fell ; the Lutherans and 
Calvinists abandoned each other ; and after Luther there was 
no great man among the Protestants. As it always has been 
in Germany, no plan-maker was to be found, or, which amounts 
to the same thing, every one was a plan-maker. 

Peasant War. — It cannot be denied that the peasants in 
the Peasant War (of Germany) had originally the right on 
their side, but it could lead to nothing. 

Wealth in Germany before the Thirty Years' War. — 
Nowhere in Germany has the wealth returned which existed 
before the Thirty Years' War. The change is almost in- 
credible. But the situation of the peasant is now much better 
than at that period. Wherever the free imperial cities ruled, 
the peasant was shockingly tyrannized over. 

Proportion of the Dead in War. — The proportion of the 
dead to the wounded was, in the Seven Years' War, as one to 
three ; in the campaign of 18 13 as one to five. There is more 
manoeuvring now than formerly. 

Irrigation and Cultivation of the Campagna Romana. 
— If the Roman Campagna could be irrigated as in ancient 
times, the country would be found fertile, as all Italian land is 
which is watered. At present, it is uncultivated, and produces 
nothing but malaria. Near Tivoli, for example, there is water 
enough. The labor of the men who come from Ancona 
would be too dear; and there are none here, on account of 
the malaria and fever. The ditches and sluices might be 
made, and then the land be let on hereditary leases. The 
farmers might derive great advantage over and above the 
rent ; and health, too, would be restored to the Campagna. 



134 



REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 



Introduction of the Musket into European Armies. — 
Lances, pikes, battle-clubs, etc., were yet quite in use in the 
beginning of the war of the Spanish succession, much more 
than the musket. But the early periods of the war were so 
murderous that the troops on both sides soon came to consist 
of young men. Perhaps they did not understand handling 
the lances and pikes, and this accelerated the adoption of 
gunpowder; for these weapons require more practice than 
the musket. How much were the Roman soldiers drilled 
compared to ours ! 

Parliamentary Regulations of the Spanish Cortes. — 
The regulations of the Spanish Cortes deserve the greatest 
credit, while those of the French Chamber are bad. These 
parliamentary regulations are of the greatest importance, and 
very difficult to be drawn up where a deliberative assembly 
all at once springs into existence, and has not grown up 
gradually as the British parliament. The speaker of the 
Cortes has to sum up the arguments on both sides. [Which 
seems to be the most inconsistent and useless provision 
imaginable, much as the want of the judge's summing up to 
the jury in the courts of the southern states in the Union is 
to be regretted.] 

Spanish Character. — The Spanish have always shown this 
peculiarity, that, taken singly, there are many noble, nay, great 
men, among them, but they do not know how to act together. 
Generals Grolmann, Lutzow,- and Dohna, who served among 
them against the French, say they are very poor in open 
battle ; one never trusts the other. They used to say, " We 
are willing enough to fight, but our neighboring regiment 
will not;" and thus they fled, but returned the next day. Yet 
none endure more or fight better in dispersed bands. Under 
English officers, to whom they granted perhaps that confi- 
dence which they did not feel in one another, they fought 
better. It was the same when they fought against the Romans; 
in bands alone did they fight well. Under Carthaginian 
officers they made good soldiers. 

Their jurists are without system. 



SCULPTURE IN ROME. 



135 



As to their manners and morals, especially in Madrid^ 
many of my friends who know them well by personal obser- 
vation have said, " Read Gil Bias ; the Spaniards are the same 
still." 

Sculpture in Rome. — About the year 1300, there were but 
a few statues above the ground in Rome — the Neptune in 
the Capitol, Marcus. Aurelius, the two Gladiators, and a few 
others. Everything else above the surface of the earth had 
been burnt for lime. It is very fortunate that Rome was so 
depopulated, or it would have shared the fate of Bologna. 
An old writer says of one of the walls of the Lateran, that it 
was built of statues. Imagine, then, what immense treasures 
of the fine arts the ancients must have brought together in 
Rome ; for nearly all we see and admire has been dug out of 
the ground, and is but the gleaning. It surpasses all our con- 
ception. There existed in the middle ages a little guide-book 
for pilgrims who went to Rome, in which the few statues then 
to be seen are explained in the most naive way. Many 
antiques represented saints, of course. 

Cesar — Mirabeau — Brutus — Cato. — Caesar was a mighty 
but unbridled character, 1 like Mirabeau. It is impossible to 
imagine Caesar great enough. The good abandoned him ; 
with whom could he associate, or on whom could he rest his 
lever except on the bad ? Such a mind could not possibly be 
at rest, nor could he remain alone. 

I have no doubt but that it would have been possible to 
approach Caesar with entire confidence after he had firmly 
established himself. 

The act of Brutus was just : there cannot be a doubt about 
this ; for a man who does in a republic what Caesar did 
stands without the law of this republic. He had forfeited his 
life according to the laws of his state. It cannot be otherwise. 
Men who bring a new time must act against the laws belong- 
ing to the past. Times would not have been so bad under 
Caesar as they grew after his death. 



1 Ccesar war eine unbandige Natur, were Mr. Niebuhr's words. 



136 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

Brutus was, undoubtedly, a pure, noble soul ; but times 
had changed. 

Cato died at the right moment; for, however things might 
have turned out, no sphere would have opened itself for him 
after the battle of Actium. 

Extraction of Pope Pius VII.— [A nobleman said, proba- 
bly forgetting that Mr. Niebuhr himself was not descended of 
a noble family, " I understand the present pope is not even a 
man of family." 1 ] 

Oh, as for that, replied Mr. Niebuhr, with a smile, I have 
been told that Christ himself was not a man of family; and 
St. Peter, if I recollect well, was but of very vulgar origin. 
Here in Rome we don't mind these things. 

Party Spirit. — A short time ago I read in a Spanish min- 
isterial paper that, on a certain occasion, in Spanish America, 
the infamous cry of Viva la Patria had been heard. Such are 
the extremes to which party spirit leads. A man who was not 
a rake, under Charles II., had no hope to be considered loyal. 
There is not a virtue, or anything good in the whole world, 
that has not, at some period or other, brought suspicion, or 
even ruin, on a man. 

History of the Middle Ages. — A satisfactory history of 
the middle ages can only be founded on a thorough history 
of villainage. 2 

The Teutonic Order. — The conquest which does much 
honor to the Germans, perhaps the only one that does, is that 
of Prussia by the Teutonic Order. They injured nothing, 
founded cities, and the country flourished. The same cannot 
be said of the conquests made by the Knights of the Sword. 

Croatians. — The Croatians were never serfs. 

Hercules. — I find that Marcus is very much attracted 
by the story of Hercules. There runs a good-naturedness 
through the whole character of that hero which has great 
charms for a child. 

Flemming — Opitz — Logau — Scultetus. — Flemming, and, 



Von Fa?nilie were the words of the gentleman. 2 Leibcigenschaft. 



GALILEI.— FRENCH ROYALISTS. 137 

next to him, Opitz and Logau— how great they are ! At any 
other time they would have created master-works which would 
have lasted forever after. But their century was wanting in 
everything — I mean in Germany : they could do nothing. 
There is a poem still extant called The Easter Trumpet of 
Triumph, by Scultetus, 1 who died early. Surely this poem, 
though with all the quaintness of the age, indicates a truly 
great genius. 

Galilei. — [I said to Mr. Niebuhr that Galilei ought to have 
either recanted instantly, and thus shown his utter contempt 
for the intolerant supporters of ignorance, or, once having 
denied it, ought never to have yielded.] 

Mr. Niebuhr said: He Was actually tortured in Rome; and 
no man can be answerable for what he does driven by torture. 
Besides, acts of this kind are always to be viewed in different 
lights; and young men like you judge them very differently 
from what men of riper age do. 

French Royalists. — I have heard the French ambassador 
say things here in my house which forebode nothing good, 
if they express the sentiments of the majority of emigrants ; 
and I fear that they do express them, for he was long the con- 
fidential friend of Louis XVIII. They hate everything that 
dates from a time after the Revolution. That they must have 
their peculiar feelings as to this event is natural ; but they ought 
to forget all hatred, and, above all, give up all desire of venge- 
ance, which many of them, I dare say, harbor in no slight degree. 

Priests at the Time of Aristophanes. — At the time of 
Aristophanes the Greek priests had actually sunk as much as 
the Franciscans have, for instance, at present. They were 
contemned as lazy, slothful people ; they begged, too, now 
and then. 

Difference between the Pope and his Maestro di 

Palazzo. — [I told Mr. Niebuhr that Signore , professor 

of mathematics in the Sapienza, had told me that Professor 



1 This is, I believe, the name. I have no means at hand to verify it. The 
German title of the poem is Oesterliche Triumphposaune. 



138 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

had written a compendium of astronomy, but the Maes- 



tro di Palazzo, a Dominican, refused the imprimatur. The 
author complained of it to the Pope, who ordered the im- 
primatur. The Dominican refused still. The Pope laid the 
book before the Inquisition, over which a Dominican always 
presides, and the Holy Office allowed the imprimatur. The 
Maestro di Palazzo refused still. The Pope then ordered an- 
other bishop to give the imprimatur, and the book at length 
was printed. This happened about two years before I told it 
to Mr. Niebuhr.] 

He said : The Dominican could only dare to do so because 
the Pope had not given his order to grant the imprimatur in 
carica, and thus he was not infallible — at least, he had not 
first heard the mass of invocation of the Holy Ghost. 

[Either in this or some other manual on astronomy for the 
use of the students in the Sapienza, the system of Copernicus 
was allowed to be given only in a note, where it was said that 
thus Copernicus had taught] 

Contubernium. — [I asked Mr. Niebuhr whether he could 
give me any accurate information respecting the contubernium. 
He said he had never been able to ascertain anything entirely 
satisfactory to him.] 

Marius and Sylla. — Marius and Sylla were not mere 
bloodhounds. The state of things, as so often is the case, 
brought them to what they did. Each of the two was in the 
right and in the wrong ; it is always so where parties exist. 
It cannot be denied that they were both actuated by ideas. 

The Bourbons. — The real object of the war proposed 
against Spain (in 1823) is to re-establish the great Bourbon 
league as it had been brought about towards the end of the 
seventeenth century. Everything else in this affair is but 
subservient to this great end of the Bourbons. 

Candia. — Candia was, even when under the power of 
Venice, almost entirely independent. There existed the 
strangest relation between the inhabitants and the governor. 

Napoleon and Alexander — Greece. — Napoleon and Alex- 
ander were nearly agreed as to the plan of dividing Turkey : 



UNITED STATES AND ENGLAND. 



139 



Constantinople alone remained the difficult and unsettled 
question. 

Convents. — Convents partly originated, and partly derived 
their rapid increase, from the universal feeling of misery in 
the first centuries of Christianity. The truly afflicting times 
forced the poor people into monastic retirement. 

Spaniards. — An old writer says: "The Spaniards are 
eagles on their horses, lions in their fastnesses, women in the 
open field." The accounts of those who served with them 
against the French agree with this. Miserable in open battle, 
they were lions indeed in Saragossa. This trait seems to be 
old ; the Numantians showed it. 

Origin of the Carnival. — It is by no means certain when 
the carnival originated — whether it grew out of the new order 
of things, or is a transformation of pagan feasts. Ibelieve the 
comedies of Shrove-Tuesday l are of German origin. 

Human Power. — It is ascertained that, towards the end of 
the seventeenth century, in Holland, four men had the same 
amount of power which five men had a century afterwards. 
The food had essentially changed. 

Influence of the Popes. — The authority of the early 
popes was of great advantage to mankind. It was the con- 
centrating and, not unfrequently, protecting power when 
everything relapsed into barbarism and destruction, and the 
dissolution of society was universal. 

Ancient Roads. — The ancient Roman roads, of which so 
many were laid out, had elevated foot-paths on each side for 
passengers. They did not think alone of the horses, like our 
modern engineers. 

United States and England. — If the United States did 
not form a confederation, but if their great powers were con- 
centrated into one powerful government, a war with England 
would soon ensue for the supremacy of the sea. This might 
become the Peloponnesian war for the latter, on account of 
internal division, over-population, and exhaustion. 



Fastnachtsspiele. 



I 4 o REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

Leo the Great. — Leo the Great deserves his name. He 
was a truly great man, a mighty mind. 

The French in Italy. — The day before the French left 
Rome they demanded the silver and gold cases of the seals 
in the archives. The silver which has been carried out of St. 
Peter's alone, without any regard even to the works of Ben- 
venuto Cellini, is immense. But a good deal may have been 
carried off by Italians themselves. 

Births. — Italian physicians have assured me that the crime 
of preventing births is incredibly general in Italy. When, 
under the French dominion, people found employment, popu- 
lation rapidly increased ; but misery has brought back vice. 

Ganganelli. — Pope Ganganelli was not poisoned : he died 
of his injudicious custom of lying in the sun, even after he 
had become very sickly. Remorse, too, at having abolished 
the Jesuits, which he did from mere compliance with the 
Bourbon courts, and against his conviction, did its part to 
undermine his health. 

Attila. — Latin was spoken at the court of Attila, and it 
was used as the means of communication with the Italians 
and other nations. Attila himself understood Latin, and 
farces in that language were performed at his court. Pro- 
copius has interesting passages on this point. 

Adulation of Napoleon. — " Napoleon est notre Dieu," said 
Ney to the professors of the university of Helmstaedt. You 
know the Archbishop of Paris called him, in a pastoral letter 
to his bishops, Ihomme de la droite de Dieu: and Fabre de 
l'Aude, president of the tribunal, wrote to Napoleon's mother: 
" La conception que vous avez eue, en portant dans votre sein le 
Grand Napoleon, rta et'e surement qu'une inspiration divine /" 
But even with us, my friend, the adulation was carried by 
some wretches to an equal extent of shameful madness. 
Even now, when I relate it, it has already become incredible; 
and yet it is a fact. How often has it not been said, " God 
created Napoleon, and rested !" What is man ! This hap- 
pened but yesterday : how utterly vile ! 

Lucien Bonaparte. — I have seen Lucien Bonaparte since 



CELESTINE V.—ST. PETER'S CHURCH. 



141 



my residence in Rome. I have a great regard for him, and 
he seems to like me. He has repeatedly invited me; but you 
know my station does not precisely allow of an intimate inter- 
course with him. His monomania is his verses. He has read 
to me French poems of his without rhyme, having imitated, 
as he thought he had, the ancient metre. Imagine a poem 
relying, as to form, on metre only, in a language which has 
no prosody, and hardly any rhythm ! It is a marotte, if ever 
any existed ! There is no earthly reason for ending the line, 
or verse, as he calls it, where he ends it; he might just as 
well have gone on. But, as I said, I have a great regard for 
him. 

Celestine V. — It is far from being historically certain 
whether Celestine V. resigned the papal crown from convic- 
tion, or whether he was induced to do so by the family of 
Gaetano, whatever means they used and for whatever con- 
siderations. I do not mean to say he had elevated himself 
to the conviction that, although possessed of the power to 
bind and loose, no mortal being was in fact endued with it; 
yet he may have modestly acknowledged to himself that he 
was not capable of binding and loosening man, and thus 
willingly yielded to Boniface VIII. 

St. Peter's Church. — Spain formerly paid annually eighty 
thousand dollars towards the repairs of the building of St. 
Peter's. The same country paid a large sum to the Lateran. 
Annual repairs of great expense are necessary, in order to 
prevent the cupola from breaking down. It has already many 
cracks; and as the money for repairs is wanting, they increase. 
An earthquake would soon change the gigantic work into 
ruins. There is now an iron hoop of several millions of 
pounds around the cupola. The real estate belonging to the 
fabrica, the revenues of which are applied to repairs only, is 
far from being sufficient. 

Italian Language. — It is a mistake to suppose that all the 
barbarous words in Italian have been introduced by the Teu- 
tonic tribes. There are many of Greek, African, and other 
origin, from Asia Minor and various other parts of the world. 



I 4 2 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

They were brought by the slaves, became common among the 
vulgar, and when the lingua volgare was elevated to the rank 
of a proper independent language, they, too, were retained. 

[What Mr. Niebuhr here asserts may appear bold to some, 
who cannot imagine how a word brought by slaves should 
ever become so generally adopted. They must remember 
that some parts of the world furnished innumerable slaves, 
and that slaves of certain countries were preferred for certain 
trades. These, then, might easily transplant a native word 
of theirs to Rome, and fix it in their new country to an ob- 
ject familiar to their trade and occupation. However, even 
without this latter explanation, it is quite possible that foreign 
words became generally used, though imported only by slaves. 
The negro slaves of the southern parts of the United States 
and of the West Indies live without any communication among 
themselves comparable to that which existed among the slaves 
of antiquity, and yet there are some entirely foreign words in 
general use among them, notwithstanding their origin from so 
many different countries in Africa. Thus the word Bukra? 



1 Thomas Bee, Esq., of Charleston, S. C, thinks that this curious word is not 
derived from an African word, but from the Spanish Bucaro, a kind of clay 
found in America. The Diccionario de la Academic speaks of three sorts of 
bucaro — white, red, and black ; but Mr. Bee thinks the white or red clay of this 
kind is far more frequently and generally meant by the word bucaro. The negro 
word Brautus, for cheap, is derived by the same gentleman from the Spanish 
barato, cheap. The intercourse between nations often introduces words where 
we should not expect them. Their general use is frequently quite surprising. 
The word hammock, in French hamac or branle, in Dutch hangmak and hang- 
mat, of which the German hangematie was formed (which was adapting it to 
German words, and the meaning which it now conveys coincides well with the 
thing it designates), in Spanish hamaca, in Italian amaca or branda americana, 
etc., is derived by my distinguished friend M. Du Ponceau, of Philadelphia, 
from the Caribbee word hamac, which means a bed, i.e., a hammock; for they 
used this kind of swinging beds only, and the buccaneers carried the word to 
the various nations. M. Du Ponceau found the Caribbee word hamac in the 
"Diet. Caraibe, par le Rev. Pere Raymonl, Breton, Religieux de l'ordre des 
Freres Precheurs et Pun des quatre premiers Missionaires Apostoliques en l'Isle 
de la Guadeloupe, etc.;" Auxerre, 1665. The same has published a Caribbee 
Grammar; Auxerre, 1667. Why is g ogo, manger a gogo, eat as much as one 
likes, now used all over France, though it probably comes from the Basque word 
gogoa, will, voluntas, according to the same learned philologist ? 



HIS HISTORY.— COURAGE. 1 43 

for white man, is common to all slaves held by owners of the 
English race. Suppose these slaves did not differ in color from 
ourselves; that they were the schoolmasters of our children, 
and filled many of the most important stations in our house- 
holds and families; and that, by a similar process with that 
which changed the Latin language, the English idiom were 
supplanted by the lingua volgare of the slaves — the word Bitkra 
would certainly settle down in the new language, as zio, for 
instance, has done in Italian. Treating of this subject, I 
may be permitted to add that the Creole language — that of 
the blunt, childish, helpless mind of the slave — shows num- 
erous transformations of the original cultivated language 
into barbarisms, where poverty of thought and poverty of 
expression are equally characteristic; quite similar to the 
changes by which Latin was transformed into Italian. To 
this day, expressions may be heard among the lowest in 
Italy which, compared with Latin, sound perfectly Creole to 
an ear that has ever heard the poor negro chat his childish 
and, on this very account, sometimes not quite disagreeable 
language.] 

Mr. Niebuhr's History. — Though I. have had occasion 
to modify some of my opinions, and my residence in Rome 
has given me so much clearer a perception and image 1 of 
ancient Rome, yet I rejoice at having formed on the whole 
so correct a picture at so great a distance. 

Courage. — [We conversed about some person whose per- 
sonal courage we doubted. I observed that I had my doubts 
as to the distinction between moral and physical courage; 
and that, though I could imagine a man of physical courage 
quail when moral boldness is to be shown, I doubted whether 
a coward could ever show great moral courage.] 

You are very much mistaken, Mr. Niebuhr replied : I have 
no physical courage, and yet I hope I should act like a man 



1 Mr. Niebuhr's topographic knowledge of all the different periods of Rome 
was in fact but as he could have it. The share he has in the Description of the 
City of Rome, by Bunsen and Plainer, is known. 



I 4 4 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

as to moral courage. There have been many instances which 
prove that you are wrong. 

[We probably did not quite understand each other. What 
Mr. Niebuhr called moral courage in a naturally timid man 
may be the conviction of duty. Thus I have myself known 
an officer who openly confessed that he was naturally the 
greatest coward, but he did not allow this feeling to show 
itself, and fought so well that he received an order. That I 
did not draw my line of distinction well need not be men- 
tioned; and it would be easy, I believe, to show it with much 
more precision were I to give my own, not Mr. Niebuhr's, 
opinions.] 

A Capuchin. — Something curious happened lately in Na- 
ples. The confessor of the King of Naples is a Capuchin : 
he wished for an order, with the revenue attached to it. The 
king granted it ; but the archbishop refused the permission to 
wear the sign of the order on the Capuchin dress. The Pope 
was appealed to ; he granted the dispensation to wear the 
common dress of ecclesiastics with the sign of the order. 
But a new difficulty arose on account of the beard. 

Venetians. — The Venetians, in their deeply-considered poli- 
tics, have never suffered feudalism among them. They had 
noblemen indeed, but no feudalism among these ; their gov- 
ernment, aristocratic to those who were ruled, was that of 
equality among the rulers. 

Ignorance in Rome. — [I had been unable to buy a decent 
map of Italy, or any part of it, in Rome. All I had found 
was a map of 1763, and another of 1790 or thereabouts; and 
I had been told in the stamperie camerale that I should be 
unable to obtain what I wished. I could not help asking the 
fattore whether they were not ashamed of not having even a 
proper map in their alma citta. " Che vuol che dica ?" with a 
shrug of the shoulders, had also been the answer in this case. 
I told this to Mr. Niebuhr:] 

Ignorance and indolence in some cases go beyond all con- 
ception. Tradition rules Rome. Even with the antiquities 
and ruins before their eyes, there is very little inquiry and 



ORACLES.— EARLY CIVILIZATION. ^5 

sound active investigation here. A statue has, for some 
reason or other, been said to be such or such a thing for 
several centuries, though those who first named it had not 
half the knowledge we have about it ; and on it goes with 
this name forever. There have been excellent exceptions, 
but now the march is rather backward. Since the French 
government has been dissolved here, the anxiety of re-estab- 
lishing the former state of things directs all attention to this 
one point, and inquiry is forgotten, or even considered as 
something modern, and almost objectionable. 

Testa — Rostro. — [I said, jocosely, that I should like to 
know whether the Latin word testa, a pot, rose in meaning, 
and came to signify in Italian the head ; or whether heads 
sank in value and became like empty pots. Capo, for head, 
was yet common in the middle ages.] 

Be that as it may, Mr. Niebuhr replied, there is a word 
which shows very clearly the process of transformation of 
modern languages out of the Latin. The Roman soldiers 
carried the word rostrum, vulgarly used by them for mouth, 
to Spain ; as our soldiers would say, in a similar way, snout 
or beak : but now rostro means in Spanish face, and is pure 
Castilian. 

Oracles. — Those oracles of the ancients are a strange 
thing. It is easy to say it was all an artifice of the priests ; 
but these priests themselves were a part of the people. Be- 
sides, such explanations did well enough for the time of the 
French philosophers, as they were called ; but we want deeper 
inquiries at this day. Why is it they were so long respected 
by the people? How does it happen that we find them in 
some shape or other everywhere ? Did man, in those early 
periods, stand nearer to nature ? 

Early Civilization. — It seems that civilization must have 
started by some immediate inspiration ; for whence comes it 
that no tribe, though discovered centuries ago in a savage 
state, has advanced since then except by some impulse from 
foreign nations already civilized ? The mythology, too, of 
almost every nation, whose civilization dates from remote 
Vol. I. — 10 



146 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

periods, teaches that a god or goddess descended to instruct 
man in agriculture, the use of iron, and other elementary arts. 
I hardly can conceive how man could have invented by him- 
self the complicated process of baking bread, at so early a 
period as that in which we find him already provided with 
this indispensable article. 1 

Essay on the Allegory in the First Canto of Dante. — 
[The following is a translation of a short essay on the alle- 
gory in the first canto of Dante, written by Mr. Niebuhr 
during his perusal of that great poet, and intended, if I re- 
member right, for one of the learned societies of Rome, or 
actually read there. Certain it is that I copied it (with his 
permission) from the original, in Italian, which I found in the 
copy of Dante he had lent me. It will be an acceptable gift 
to all those friends of the great scholar who are acquainted 
with Dante.] 

It is generally believed by all the commentators of Dante, 
that in the allegory with which his divine poem begins, the 
wood {la selvd) in which the poet wanders about during night, 
ought to be explained by the state of the human soul, en- 
veloped in vices and passions ; the hill (il colle) surrounded by 
the beams of the sun, as the allegory for virtue; and the wild 
beasts (le fere) which assail him in ascending the mountain, 
by the vices of carnal appetite, pride, and avarice. This in- 
terpretation seems to me absolutely erroneous, and incapable 
of being made to agree with the sense of many passages. 

Let those who propose this interpretation as a matter quite 
certain explain to us how the poet could say, " the great dog 
of Scala" would kill Avarice ; and how, after the poet has left 
the wood, which they believe to be the image of the realm of. 
passions and vices, he was attacked at that spot by some of 
these vicious passions ? How, finally, the gay apparition of 



1 These last observations of my revered friend and guide give occasion to 
repeat what I said in the Introduction, that I have not been so presumptuous as 
to assume the right of stating or omitting what fell from him, according to my 
own assent or dissent ; nor that I could add to the value of his views by stating 
my own opinions. 



THE FIRST CANTO OF DANTE. 



147 



one of these vicious inclinations was able to fortify his hope, 
giving it strength to arrive at virtue ? 

If there were a tradition preserved as to the interpretation 
of Dante, we should undoubtedly feel obliged to submit to its 
authority; but after the more modern commentators have 
proved that the ancients have strangely mistaken the sense of 
various passages, it may be permitted to attempt a new and 
more simple interpretation. 

It seems to me that Dante must have spoken, not of what 
is common to human fate, as the state of sinfulness and the 
effort to elevate himself to virtue would be ; nor that he would 
have strayed so far from the dogmas of his religion, as he 
would have done, in supposing that man enters and leaves the 
state of sinfulness during life; but, on the contrary, that 
everything must be explained by his life, and the peculiarities 
connected therewith. 

It appears to me extremely simple to interpret the whole 
allegory in the following way : Dante confesses himself to 
have been, after his youth had passed away, in a state of 
misery, when la diritta via era smarrita, and he found himself 
enveloped in the darkness of night; — which signifies that, 
assailed by passions, he had lost that control over himself, 
and that power to guide himself, according to the dictates of 
true reason and the eternal laws, without which man is de- 
prived of his perfect free-will — a condition into which the 
soul is thrown insensibly and by surprise, as he who is " full 
of sleep" (pien di sonno) is led into such an unknown place. 
Yet this state of the mind is not so constant as not to allow 
of wakeful moments, during which we behold before our eyes 
the light of truth and wisdom. That this truth is not only 
the mundane wisdom, but the wisdom enlightened by Revela- 
tion, seems to me expressed by the hill surrounded by the 
rays of the sun. It unveils itself to Dante, and shows the 
path towards the summit ; but the wild beasts meet him as 
impediments on his way. I do not believe that Dante meant 
to indicate by these wild beasts anything but the obstacles 
which induced him to give up the farther ascent to the top of 



1 48 REMINISCENCES OF NIEBUHR. 

the hill. Perhaps they are individuals, and particular enemies 
of the poet ; perhaps they are personifications, which I am 
unable sufficiently to explain : yet this does not show that my 
view is untenable. As to the wolf (carca di brame), it seems 
to be evident that it signifies the party of the Guelphs, or that 
of the Roman church — the wolf being besides the proper 
image of Rome, on account of its origin ; that the many ani- 
mals with which it unites itself (inolti son gli animali, a cui 
s'ammoglid) signify the many diversified elements of which, 
at various times, the party of the Guelphs was composed ; 
and that the priest should be conquered by the head of the 
Ghibellines, following in this the common way of poetic 
prophecies. Non salirai tu alia cima, says Virgil, per questa 
strada : that is to say, it is impossible to arrive at wisdom, 
travelling through the world as thou hast done so far ; it is 
necessary that thou shouldst abandon it, and that, by the con- 
templation of human life, its faults and vices, for which the 
guidance of a sage illumined only by the natural light is 
sufficient, thou prepare thyself to be led to the knowledge of 
the supernatural things in the government of God, which 
cannot be obtained by the study of pagan authors. 

In this way, it appears to me, the intricate knot of this 
allegory is untied without any violence. 



PERSONAL REMINISCENCES 

OF 

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 



149 



NOTE. 



The following episode is taken from a volume of Letters written after a jour- 
ney to Niagara, in 1833. It was suggested to the author while in New York, 
that he had arrived in that city seven years before " on the same day, and had 
put his foot on land in the same hour, that, in 18 15, a ball had prostrated him." 
This coincidence made him reflective ; he sought the country, and at Weehawken, 
overlooking the city of New York, he recalled the incidents of the battle of 
Waterloo which are narrated in the following pages. — (G.) 



150 



PERSONAL REMINISCENCES 



OF 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 



" Boys, clean your rifles," said my old and venerable father, 
entering my room, where I was just studying Loder's Ana- 
tomical Tables. " He is loose again." — " Napoleon ?" — " He 
has returned from Elba." My heart beat high; it was glori- 
ous news for a boy of sixteen, who had often heard with silent 
&nvy the account of the campaigns of 1813 and '14 from 
the lips of his two brothers, both of whom had marched in 
18 1 3, in common with most young men of good families, as 
volunteer riflemen, and returned as wounded officers. 

The one, cured of his wounds, rejoined his regiment; an- 
other of my brothers and myself followed the call of govern- 
ment to enter the army as volunteers, though our age would 
have exempted us from all obligation. Which regiment 
should we choose ? Of course, one which was garrisoned 
near the enemy's frontier, so that we were sure not to have 
a peaceable campaign in a distant reserve. There was a regi- 
ment among the troops near the frontiers of France which 
enjoyed a peculiarly high and just reputation; its name was 
Colbergy bestowed upon the brave band in honor of its valiant 
defence of the fortress of Colberg, in the year 1806 — the only 
Prussian fortified place at that wretched time which did not 
surrender to the French. It was composed of brave and 
sturdy Pomeranians, a short, broad-shouldered, healthy race. 
In more than twenty " ranged" engagements during the cam- 
paign of '13 and '14, had they shown themselves worthy of 

151 



152 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

their honorable name. My brother and myself selected this 
regiment. When the day appointed for the enlistment of the 
volunteers arrived, we went to my father, and said, " Well, 
then, we go; is it with your consent?" " Go to your mother," 
he replied. We went to her ; our hearts were big ; she had 
suffered so much during the first campaign. With a half- 
choked voice I said, " Mother, we go to be enrolled, shall 
we ?" She fell into our arms, that noble woman, worthy of 
the best times of Rome, and sobbed aloud. " Go," was all 
her bleeding heart allowed her to utter; and had she been 
the mother of twenty sons, she would have sent them all. 
■ A table was placed in the centre of a square in the city 
of Berlin, at which several officers were enlisting those who 
offered themselves. We had to wait from ten to one o'clock 
before we could get a chance to have our names taken down, 
the throng was so great. 

In the beginning of the month of May we were marched 
from Berlin to our regiments. My mother, my sisters, and 
brothers were calm when we took leave; tears would burst 
out of their burning eyes, which had wept the live-long night; 
but they did all they could not to make the parting too pain- 
ful to us. My father accompanied us to the place of rendez- 
vous. When the bugle called us to the lines, we looked for 
him, to take the last leave ; he had stolen himself away. A 
great many people accompanied us out of the city; the beau- 
tiful Brandenburg gate was soon behind us; we began to sing. 
I looked but forward, happy that it was yet my lot to carry 
arms in defence of my country. 

On the 1 6th we passed the Rhine. With all the feelings 
of veneration with which a German of the north will ever 
regard that noble and classical river, when he sees it for the 
first time, was mixed in our breasts a glowing of patriotism 
such as you may expect to find only in one whose morning 
of life had fallen in that exciting time. On the 25th of May 
we passed in review before Prince Bliicher, in Namur. On 
the 26th we marched to a village called Voistin, and were 
incorporated with our regiment. Its colonel received us with 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. ^3 

a calmness which almost bordered on coldness; he was always 
so. In the most trying moments, or when the cry of victory 
was raised after a long and doubtful struggle, his face betrayed 
no emotion. Our men called him Old Iron, yet they loved 
him for his justice and bravery, and his love of his men. 
Every man of the army or navy will understand me. 

On the 2d of June we had our first parade with the regi- 
ment, and the colonel declared that we had the bearing of 
old soldiers; he was satisfied with us. 1 We longed to be 
tried. I saw on that day, for the first time, the woman who 
was sergeant in our regiment, and distinguished herself so 
much that she could boast of three orders on her gown, 
when, after the peace, she was married, in Berlin, to another 
sergeant. In a second regiment of our brigade was another 
girl serving as soldier ; but she was very different from our 
sergeant ; her sex was discovered by mere accident ; she had 
marched instead of her brother, that he might support their 
aged parents. You probably recollect Pochasca, and the girl 
who followed her lover to the army, fought by his side, was 
known to nobody but him, was wounded and discovered 
herself, only just before she breathed her last in the Berlin 
Hospital, to the Princess William. 

We marched to Longueville, seven leagues from Brussels. 
On the 9th we received lead to cast our balls, the rifles being 
of different calibre, as each volunteer had equipped himself. 
It is one of the most peculiar situations a man of reflecting 
mind can be in, when he casts his balls for battles near at 
hand. 

In the evening I was lying with two comrades, one of whom 
was a Jew, in a hay-loft ; the crazy roof allowed us to see the 
brilliant stars. We spoke of home. " My father," said the 
one, "told me he was sure he would not see me again, though 
he never attempted to keep me back," and, added he, " I feel 
as if I should fall." A ball entered his forehead in the first 



1 The infantry volunteers, who were all riflemen, formed separate companies, 
called detachments, one of which was added to each battalion or regiment, ac- 
cording to the number who had enrolled for a certain regiment. 



154 



PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 



battle, and killed him on the spot. The second, the Jew, said, 
" Nobody has told me of my death, yet I believe I shall re- 
main on the field." He fell at my side, in the battle of Ligny, 
before he had fired a shot — a ball cutting his throat. " And 
I," said I, " shall be brushed, but, I think, shall return home, 
though with a scratched skin." Thus strangely every prophecy 
of that night was fulfilled. 

On the morning of the 15th the general was beaten; hos- 
tilities had begun on the 14th. We marched the whole day 
and the whole night. In the morning we arrived not far from 
the battle-field of Ligny ; we halted. Before us was a rising 
ground, on which we saw innumerable troops ascending the 
plain with flying colors, and music playing. It was a sight 
a soldier loves to look at. I cannot say, with Napoleon, that 
the earth seemed to be proud to carry so many brave men, 
but we were proud to belong to these brave and calm masses. 
Orders for charging were given ; the pressure of the coming 
battle was felt more and more. Some soldiers who carried 
cards in their knapsacks threw them away, believing that they 
bring bad luck. I had never played at cards and carried none, 
but this poor instance of timid superstition disgusted me so 
that I purposely picked up a pack and put it in my knapsack. 
Our whole company consisted of very young men, nearly all 
lads, who were impatient for battle, and made a thousand 
questions in their excited state to the old, well-seasoned ser- 
geant-major, who had been given to us from the regiment. 
His imperturbable calmness, which neither betrayed fear nor 
excited courage, but took the battle like a drilling, amused 
us much. 

We now marched again, up the sloping plain, and by one 
o'clock, in the afternoon, arrived on the battle-ground. Our 
destiny was first a trying reserve ; the enemy's brass played 
hard upon us ; shell shots fell around us and took several 
men out of our column. We were commanded to lie down; 
I piqued myself on not making any motion when balls or 
shells were flying over us. Behind us stood some cavalry; 
one of their officers had been a near neighbor to us in Berlin. 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 155 

He rode up to me and asked me to write home should he 
fall; he would do as much for me should I be shot down. He 
soon after fell. We longed most heartily to be led into the 
fire, when our officer, a well-tried soldier, for we had not yet 
exercised our right of electing our own officers, as none of 
us had sufficient experience, spoke these few words : " My 
friends, it is easier to fight than to stand inactive exposed to 
fire ; you are tried at once by the severest test, show then that 
you can be calm as the oldest soldiers. My honor depends 
upon your conduct. Look at me, and I promise you, you 
shall not find yourselves mistaken." At length, at about 
two o'clock, an aide of the general of our brigade galloped 
up to our column, and said to the colonel : " Your column 
must throw the enemy out of the left wing of the village." 
Presently the colonel rode up to us and said, " Riflemen, you 
are young, I am afraid too ardent; calmness makes the soldier, 
hold yourselves in order ;" then he turned round : " March !" 
— and the dull, half-suffocated drum, from within the deep 
column, was heard beating such delicious music. Now, at 
last, was all to be realized for which we had left our homes, 
had suffered so many fatigues, had so ardently longed for. 
The bugle gave the signal of halt ; we were in front of the 
village of Ligny. The signal was given for the riflemen to 
march out to the right and left of the column, and to attack. 

Our ardor now led us entirely beyond the proper limits ; the 
section to which I belonged ran madly, without firing, towards 
the enemy, who retreated. My hindman 1 fell ; I rushed on, 
hearing well but not heeding the urgent calls of our old 
sergeant. The village was intersected with thick hedges, 
from behind which the grenadiers fired upon us, but we 
drove them from one to the other. I, forgetting altogether 
to fire and what I ought to have done, tore the red plume 



1 Riflemen, who attack as tirailleurs and never shoot without aiming, are 
placed two by two together. These couples assist each other, one charges 
whilst the other aims, and vice versa. One of them is called the fore-man, the 
other hind-man. 



156 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

from one of the grenadiers' bear-caps, and swung it over my 
head, calling triumphantly to my comrades. At length we 
arrived at a road crossing the village lengthwise, and the 
sergeant-major had now succeeded in his attempt to bring us 
somewhat back to our reason. There was a house around the 
corner of which he suspected that a number of French lay. 
" Be cautious," said he to me, " until the others are up," but 
I stepped round and a grenadier stood about fifteen paces 
from me; he aimed at me, I levelled my rifle at him. "Aim 
well, my boy," said the sergeant-major, who saw me. My 
antagonist's ball grazed my hair on the right side ; I shot and 
he fell ; I found I had shot through his face ; he was dying. 
This was my first shot ever fired in battle. 

Several times I approached old soldiers in the battle, to ask 
them whether this was really a good sound battle, and when 
they told me, as heavy a one as Dennewitz, one of the most 
sanguinary engagements in which our regiment or, in fact, 
any regiment had ever fought, I was delighted. All I had 
feared was, that I should not have the honor of assisting in a 
thorough battle. I observed a hog and a child both equally 
bewildered ; they must have soon been killed, and as I never 
can omit observing contrasts, I noticed a bird anxiously flying 
about its young ones and striving to protect them in this 
tremendous uproar and carnage. A degree of vanity, I re- 
member, made me, in the beginning of the battle, feel very 
important, when I thought that a man's life depended upon 
my trigger. After about an hour, I was calmed down, and 
got the proper trempe? I felt a parching thirst, and discov- 
ering a well, I took a canteen from the knapsack of a dead 
soldier, contrived to fasten it by thongs obtained in a similar 
way to a pole, and drew up some water. A captain, seeing 
me, partook of it, and made some remarks about my calm- 
ness, which made me feel proud. It happened where the fire 
was briskest. But I cannot tell you all the details of the 
fight, and what a soldier personally does in a battle so bloody 



x Temper of steel. 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 157 

and so long as that of Ligny ; how many of my friends I 
have seen falling dead or wounded around me, how desperately 
we fought on both sides for the possession of the village ; and 
how the troops against us were three times renewed, while we 
received no succor. Suffice it to say, that the battle lasted in 
all its vigor until dark. The village was four times taken and 
retaken ; the last time we had to march in a hollow way, 
which leads across the centre of the place, and where the 
struggle had been the hottest all the afternoon. Three or 
four layers of dead and living, men and horses, impeded the 
progress of the soldiers, who were obliged to wade in the 
blood of their comrades, or to trample upon wounded enemies, 
imploring them to give some assistance, but to whom they 
were obliged to turn a deaf ear, whatever might be their feel- 
ings. This last attempt to regain the village, when I was 
called upon to assist in getting a cannon over the mangled 
bodies of comrades or enemies, leaping in agony when the 
heavy wheel crossed over them, has impressed itself with 
indelible horror upon my mind. I might give you details 
such as you have seen in no picture of a carnage, by whatever 
master it was painted ; but why ? 

All my ammunition was exhausted except one ball, which 
I was anxious to save, should any cavalrist attempt to sabre 
me. It was impossible for me to get new ammunition, and 
so I was obliged, for more than an hour, to be present at the 
fire as a mere spectator. I would not have gone back on 
any account, though the commander of our company once 
advised me to do so. In the course of the battle, one of my 
friends had, in the heat of the engagement, put his ball into 
the rifle before the powder. It is one of the most painful 
things that can happen to a young soldier. There is a kind 
of stigma or suspicion attached to this mishap ; besides, who 
likes to leave the battle ? Yet I advised him to go back and 
get the ball extracted. " I'd rather fight the whole day with 
a stick," he exclaimed. He then took the gun and ammuni- 
tion from a dead Frenchman, and fired the enemy's own balls 
until he fell. I now tried to do the same, but though guns 



158 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

enough were strewed on the ground, I found no cartridge- 
box with ammunition. 

Towards evening the cavalry began to press us more and 
more ; to regain the village was impossible ; our troops were 
thinned to the utmost ; it became dark ; the bugle blew to 
retreat, when horse grenadiers approached to charge us. The 
signal was given to form heaps} It was now, when retreating, 
that our men began for the first time to show uneasiness. 
The colonel observed it by the irregular beat of the gun, 
when he commanded " Ready." But as if he were on the 
drilling place, he said, " Your beat is bad ; have we drilled so 
long for nothing ? down with your guns ; now, ' Ready' ;" 
and every man was calm again. Treat good soldiers soldier- 
like, and good sailors sailor-like, and you may always depend 
upon them. The cavalry charged, but we received them 
according to the rule, " No firing until you see the white of 
their eyes ;" and they were repelled. My brother had been 
wounded in the foot and was obliged to ride the night through 
on the pointed cover of an ammunition car. He assured me 
afterwards he had an uncomfortable ride of it, which I will- 
ingly believe. 

Of our whole company, which, on entering the engage- 
ment, mustered about one hundred and fifty strong, not more 
than from twenty to thirty combattants remained. The old 
soldiers of our regiment treated us ever after this battle with 
signal regard, while, before it, they had looked upon us rather 
as beardless boys. We marched all night. On the 17th we 
attempted twice to go to bivouac, but were twice disturbed 
by the enemy. Suffering greatly from hunger, we made a 
meal of raw pork, having met with a hog. 

Towards evening I was sent with some others to get what- 
ever might be obtained in the shape of victuals, from the sur- 



1 Infantry forms, at the approach of cavalry, regular squares; but, when 
troops are so thinned and dispersed as the regiment Colberg was towards the 
end of this battle, or when the attack of cavalry is too sudden and unexpected 
to admit of their regular formation, mere heaps are formed ; that is, the infantry 
run together and imitate a square as well as they can. 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 159 

rounding villages. It was a sad charge ! In one house, 
stripped of everything, we found a young woman with an 
infant, by the side of her father, who had been beaten and 
wounded by some marauding enemies. She asked us for a 
piece of bread ; we had none. We gave her some potatoes 
which we had just found, but she said she had nothing to 
cook them with. We received this day the order of the army, 
in which Blucher spoke in high terms of the conduct of the 
infantry during the battle ; our regiment was singled out by 
name. 

We marched a great part of the night. Rain fell in tor- 
rents; it had rained the whole of the 17th; the roads were 
very bad. Early in the morning of the 18th we found part 
of our regiment from which we had been separated. It was 
a touching scene, to see the soldiers rushing to each other, 
to find comrades whom we had believed to be dead or miss- 
ing. Our men were exhausted, but old Blucher allowed us 
no rest. We began early on the 18th our march. As we 
passed the marshal, wrapped up in a cloak and leaning 
against a hill, our soldiers began to hurrah, for it was always 
a delight to them to see the " Old one," as he was called. 
"Be quiet, my lads," said he; "hold your tongues; time 
enough after the victory is gained." He issued this morning 
his famous order, which ended by assuring our army that he 
would prove the possibility of beating two days after a retreat, 
and with inferior numbers; and which concluded with the 
words, " We shall conquer because we must conquer." 

We entered the battle with Blucher in the afternoon : you 
know the history of this memorable day. It had been again 
our lot to stand, unengaged for some time, in sight of the 
battle ; we saw some brilliant charges of our cavalry putting 
to rout French squares. Not far from us stood the huzzars, 
commanded by Colonel Colomb. An aide came with the 
order to charge a square. " Volunteers, advance !" called the 
colonel — intending to form the body for the attack of volun- 
teers — when the whole regiment, as if by magic, advanced 
some steps. He was obliged to order a company in the 



l6o PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

common way. Numerous wounded passed by us while we 
stood there inactive. Marshal Bliicher rode by, and when he 
observed our uniform, said, " Ah, my Colberger, wait, wait a 
moment, I'll give you presently something to do." 

We suffered dreadfully from the cravings of hunger. I 
found a peasant in the cellar of a house near the road, and 
threatened to shoot him instantly unless he gave us bread. 
He assured us he had none. I told my comrade to hold 
him, while I would seem to prepare to shoot him ; he brought 
us a small loaf. No one knows what the enjoyments of the 
palate are who has not really suffered from hunger or thirst. 
Let a shipwrecked man, who floated for many days with the 
scantiest supply of water, under the scorching rays of a ver- 
tical sun, tell you what he suffered, and describe to you what 
he felt, when, for the first time again, he could quaff the de- 
licious crystal liquid, without the jealous eyes of his fellow- 
sufferers fixed upon him, counting with the envy of a maniac 
each draught he takes. It is in such moments we receive an 
enjoyment, which ever after gives us a different view of the 
senses through which we obtained it. They then appear to 
us in their true light, sanctified by all their importance and 
necessity in the great world of creation ; we then see how 
their subtle organization forms a powerful means of connect- 
ing scattered elements, and our inmost soul perceives that 
they, too, are the gifts of a great God. 

It was heart-rending to halt, as we did in the evening, on 
the field of battle after such bloodshed. Fires were lighted, 
that the wounded might creep to them. I found a hen-house, 
got in, and the door shut after me ; I heard the signal for 
march, and my anxiety was great when I found I could not 
get out. It was perfectly dark; I groped about, but, to my 
utter discomfiture, I found no way of escape. At last I set 
up a tremendous shouting, and after a while succeeded in 
attracting the attention of some of our regiment, who deliv- 
ered me from my unpleasant situation, and enjoyed a hearty 
laugh at my expense. 

The great body of the Prussian and English armies marched 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 161 

toward Paris; but half of our army corps, to which I belonged, 
received orders to pursue Vandamme, who had thrown him- 
self upon Namur. We marched the whole of the 19th; the 
heat was excessive, and our exhaustion and thirst so great, 
that two men of our regiment became deranged in conse- 
quence. We chewed clay, over which the artillery had 
marched, and thus had pressed out its moisture by the 
wheels of the cannons. In my despair I even made the 
attempt — but I could not. 

No soldier is allowed by the regulations, when marching 
through a place, to step out of the ranks or to drink from 
wells on the road ; but when we marched in the course of 
this day through Gemblours, where the people had placed 
large tubs before their doors, filled with water, officers and 
privates fell pell-mell upon them ; some drank their last 
draught. Such was the impression then made upon me by 
the consuming thirst, that, for a long time after, I was unable 
to see liquid of any kind without feeling an intense desire 
to swallow it, though I might not at the time feel thirsty. 
At four o'clock in the afternoon we went to bivouac ; we 
started early again, and now my strength forsook me. I 
could not keep up with the troops, and began to lag behind ; 
it was a most painful feeling to me, but I could not do other- 
wise. I tried to get hold of a cannon : an artillerist, pitying 
my appearance, wished even to take me on the cannon, but 
his officer would not permit it. Suddenly, at about noon, 
I heard the first guns ; the battle of Namur had begun. 
Heavens, and I not with my corps ! My strength was sud- 
denly restored ; I ran across a field, in which the balls of the 
enemy were mowing down the high wheat, towards the com- 
mander of our brigade, whom I espied on an elevation. I 
asked him, " Where is my regiment ?" He very angrily turned 
round: "Who disturbs me here during the engagement? go 

to the d !" but as soon as he began to observe me more 

narrowly, my exhausted appearance, my youth, and particu- 
larly when I quickly said, "Sir, I ask because I want to fight," 
he bent down from his horse, stroked my face, and said, in a 
Vol. I.— 11 



1 62 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

mild tone, " What do you want, my rifleman ?" I repeated 
my question ; he showed me where I had to go, gave me to 
drink, and called after me, " Come and see me after the battle ; 
do you understand ?" " I do," said I. Two minutes after he 
fell. He was a most kind officer, and the soldiers said he 
treated the riflemen too kindly. 

When I arrived where my regiment stood, or, as I should 
rather say, the little band representing it, I dropped down, 
but fortunately one of my comrades had some eggs, one of 
which gave me great strength. Our colonel came up to us, 
saying, " Riflemen, you have twice fought like the oldest sol- 
diers; I have to say nothing more; this wood is to be cleared; 
be calm — bugleman, the signal!" and off we went with a great 
hurrah, driving the French before us down a hill towards 
Namur, which lay on our front. My hindman, like his pre- 
decessor, was killed. When I saw our men rushing too fast 
down the hill, I was afraid that some enemies might be hid 
under the precipice to receive them. Holding myself with 
my left hand by a tree, I looked over the precipice, and saw 
about seven Frenchmen. " They will hit me," I thought, and 
turning round to call to our soldiers, I suddenly experienced 
a sensation as if my whole body were compressed in my head, 
and this, like a ball, were quivering in the air. I could feel 
the existence of nothing else ; it was a most painful sensation. 
After some time I was able to open my eyes, or to see again 
with them ; I found myself on the ground ; over me stood a 
soldier firing at the enemy. I strained every nerve to ask, 
though in broken accents, whether, and if so, where, I was 
wounded. " You are shot through the neck." I begged him 
to shoot me ; the idea of dying miserably, half of hunger, 
half of my wound, alone in the wood, overpowered me. He, 
of course, refused, spoke a word of comfort, that, perhaps, I 
might yet be saved, and soon after himself received a shot 
through both knees, in consequence of which he died in the 
hospital, while I am now writing an account of his sufferings 
here, in America. 

My thirst was beyond description ; it was a feverish burning. 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 163 

I thought I should die, and prayed for forgiveness of my sins, 
as I forgave all ; I recollect I prayed for Napoleon ; and begged 
the Dispenser of blessings to shower his bounty upon my 
beloved ones ; and, if it could be, to grant me a speedy end 
of my sufferings. All my relations passed before my mind. 
I received a second ball, which, entering my chest, gave me 
a more local pain than the first ; I thought God had granted 
my fervent prayer. I perceived, as I supposed, that the ball 
had pierced my lungs, and tried to breathe hard to hasten my 
dissolution. At several periods I heard soldiers passing by 
and making their remarks upon me, but I had no power of 
giving any sign of life. A boy, the son of a colonel, was led 
by an old soldier past me ; I could see them dimly, and heard 
the boy exclaim, " Oh, my father!" I heard afterwards that 
his father had been killed, and the second in command had 
sent the boy out of the fire. 

I now fell into a deep swoon ; the ideas of approaching 
death, the burning thirst, and the fever, created by my 
wounds, together with the desire which had occupied our 
minds so often during the last days, of seeing once more 
good quarters, produced a singular dream, which was as 
lively and as like reality as it was strange. I dreamt that I 
had died, and arrived before the gates of heaven, where I 
presented my billet. St. Peter looked at it, and I was ad- 
mitted into a wide saloon, where an immense table was spread 
out, covered with the choicest fruits, and with crystal vessels 
filled with the most cooling beverages. I was transported 
with joy, yet I asked, " Do people here eat and drink ?" St. 
Peter answered, that those who wished to enjoy these refresh- 
ments, as was probably my case, were at liberty to do so, but 
that those who were unwilling to partake of them felt no evil 
effects in consequence ; life was possible there without food. 
I went to one of the crystal bowls and drank in deep draughts 
the refreshing liquid. I awoke, and found a soldier bending 
over me and giving me out of his canteen what I long be- 
lieved to be wine, so deliciously and vivifyingly did it course 
through every vein. But at a later period I happened to meet 



1 64 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

the same soldier, and learned that this reviving liquid was 
simple water. It was extremely hot, and the wounded suf- 
fered very much ; but this heat, so painful to us, saved per- 
haps my life, since, without any bandage over my wounds, I 
soon must have bled to death, had not the clogged blood 
served instead of a bandage, and stopped in a measure further 
bleeding. 

I succeeded in expressing to the soldier my wish that he 
would return with some man to carry me away ; he promised 
to return, but did not. I again became senseless, and when 
I awoke found myself digging in agony in the ground, as I 
had seen so many of the dying men do in the previous battles. 
I shuddered, and prayed once more for a speedy dissolution. 
I had, fortunately, in my agony and struggle, turned from the 
precipice; had I turned towards it, I must inevitably have 
perished. My situation, on a declivity, was such that I could 
see into the plain of Namur, and I was rejoiced when I saw 
by the fire that our troops had, by this time, hard pressed 
the enemy. 

My strength was fast going, and when, towards evening, I 
was awakened by the peasants sent to collect the wounded, 
but who found it more profitable to plunder the dead or such 
of the wounded as could offer no resistance, and to throw both 
into the fosses, the common grave of friend and foe, I could not 
speak ; I felt as if a rock was weighing upon every limb and 
muscle. They searched for my watch and money, and rudely 
stripped me of my clothes, which increased my pains and re- 
newed the bleeding of my wounds. At last I was enabled to 
move my eyelids, and this motion, as well as, probably, the 
expression of my look, showed them that not only was I 
living, but that I was sufficiently sensible to be aware of all 
the horrors of my situation. One of them said, " Ah, mon 
camavade, tic es dans tin 6tat quHl fant que tu creves /" When 
they had nearly finished their work I heard a loud threatening 
voice, a shot, and a scream of one of the peasants, upon which 
they all absconded. Soon after, a soldier of the Westphalia 
militia, himself wounded, dragged himself towards me. He 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 165 

had seen the peasants at their nefarious work, and fired upon 
them. He saw my helpless situation, and when he espied a 
surgeon below in the valley he called to him to come and 
dress my wounds. " At this hour work is left off," x he re- 
plied, and proceeded on his way. My protector intended to 
fire at him also, but his wounds prevented him from loading 
quickly enough. He promised me to return soon with assist- 
ance. I feared he would not return, and saw him, with a 
heavy heart, disappear behind the trees; but he did not 
deceive me. 

At about nine o'clock he returned — painful as it was to 
him to walk — with some peasants, who dressed me with the 
clothes of the dead around me, and made a litter, by means 
of guns ; upon which they carried me into the valley, to a 
farm where the surgeons were. All the lint had been used, 
and it was necessary to cut open the uniform I had on, and 
employ the wadding of it as a substitute. A sutler tried to 
make me eat small crumbs, but I could not move a single 
muscle without great pain. 

A short time after, a false alarm spread that the French were 
coming up again : wounded soldiers are full of apprehension, 
and the rumor was believed. I implored my kind friend, for 
I had, by this time, somewhat recovered my speech, to take 
me away ; I feared nothing so much as to be taken prisoner 
when wounded. He fetched a wheelbarrow, made to carry 
lime, got me into it as well as he could, and carried me to a 
farm at a distance from the main road. My pains, during this 
time, were excruciating ; my bandages fell off. On the road 
to this farm we met a wounded sergeant of my company. I 
heard the militia-man ask him whether he knew me ; he 
answered in the negative, and I could not tell who I was. 
My head had struck against the wheel, and my wound had 
bled anew. " Poor fellow," said the sergeant, " may God 
assist you !" then, addressing the militia-man, I heard him 
express his serious doubts as to the possibility of my re- 



1 Es ist jezt Feierabend. 



1 66 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

covery, but requesting him to take care of me as long as I 
should be alive. 

The house to which I was taken was full of wounded ; my 
kind companion tried to make some room for me on the 
ground ; it rained hard, and we were exposed to the inclem- 
ency of the weather. In the morning, my friend left me 
after having recommended me to the care of an officer of our 
regiment, shot through the belly. Towards noon a coal-cart 
arrived, to take some of the wounded to Namur; the officer 
was carried into it ; and I then heard him say, " Fetch that 
rifleman ;" but those who were to execute his order took 
another in my place, and I could not speak loud enough to 
correct the mistake. 

By the time that evening arrived, the number of the wounded 
had greatly diminished ; all who could carry themselves to 
town had done so. Late in the evening, the proprietor of 
the house — an old man — came, slowly and shyly, into "his 
own house. He made some porridge, and in a manner which 
betrayed much feeling tried to feed me, but I could eat but 
very little. The poor old man had himself a son in the army. 

On the 22d every one was carried out of the house except 
myself and three others, with equally bad wounds. We had 
not strength to make ourselves sufficiently noticed when the 
carts arrived. We remained together the whole day in silent 
companionship ; the old man had left the house soon after he 
had attempted to feed me. On the 23d, in the forenoon, I 
resolved to creep out of the door, should I perish in the 
attempt, in order to stand a chance of being seen by passen- 
gers. It must have been more than two hours before I suc- 
ceeded in reaching the road, though but a few rods from the 
house ; I fell from one swoon into another. Many persons, 
passing by, threw money to me, but what was I to do with 
money? At last two soldiers of my company, who had re- 
mained in Namur to have their rifles repaired, passed by. 
They could not recognize me by my features, because my 
face was incrusted with blood and earth, but they knew me 
by my boots, which the plundering peasants had not succeeded 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 167 

in pulling off. It was my custom, in order to protect the 
soles of my boots, to drive nails in, all over them, and every 
evening I used to put in a new nail, wherever I found the 
head of an old one gone. This had given them almost the 
appearance of a steel plate, and as they could be plainly seen 
by passers by, did me the essential service I have mentioned. 

As soon as the soldiers recognized me, they managed to 
get a stable-door, begged a wounded soldier, who was passing 
by, to serve as my escort, and obliged four persons going by 
to carry me towards Namur. Whenever we came across any 
one on the road, one of my carriers was allowed to depart, 
and the new-comer obliged to take his place. When we 
arrived at the house where my wounds had been dressed on 
the evening of the 20th, we found a cart literally crowded 
with wounded French ; but it was necessary to make room 
for me, and it was accordingly done. The dipping motion 
of the two-wheeled cart, the jolting on the paved roads, such 
as they are in that country, was excessively annoying to us, 
and made the French scream lustily, at which a soldier of our 
regiment, the only Prussian besides me in the cart, and him- 
self very grievously wounded, swore in great anger. 

When we entered the city of Namur, the inhabitants 
showed much kindness to us ; so much, indeed, that it became 
annoying. One man, I think he was a hair-dresser, insisted 
upon washing my face, though I told him that every touch 
he gave caused me great pain. The French were carried to 
their hospital, but the Prussians were obliged to proceed. 
We were taken to the Meuse, where two vessels, chained 
together, received the wounded. Two girls endeavored here 
to dress my wound ; and changed my shirt, stiff with blood, 
for a clean one. I thanked the kind souls ; and they gave 
me, in addition, some currants. In the vessel I found many 
of my comrades. The sun was very hot. Towards evening, 
the vessel in which I was drew water ; besides which it rained. 
We suffered much. At Huy, where we arrived at about 
midnight, we received some bread, but we wanted surgeons. 

In the morning, at about eight o'clock, we arrived in Liege ; 



1 68 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

the inhabitants received us with all possible kindness. I was 
carried into a house, where I found four or five wounded, and 
two young ladies busy in dressing them ; some of the wounds 
were already in a most disgusting state. After they had 
dressed me as well as they could, I said to one of my com- 
rades, a school-mate of mine, that I needs must try to get to 
the hospital; my wounds required proper attendance. He, 
wounded as he was in the thigh, tried to support me in get- 
ting there ; but soon after we had left the house, I fainted 
away. A lady, who found me in this state, ordered me to be 
placed on a litter, and when my consciousness returned, I 
found myself on my way to the hospital, which was estab- 
lished in an old convent. The large bell was rung, the doors 
opened, and I was carried into the yard ; I felt very unhappy. 
The hospital was so full, that I was placed, with many others, 
on straw in the yard ; besides, the uniform I now had on did 
not show my rank. Every morning a cart would enter into 
the yard, stop in the centre, and the driver would pass along 
the straw, to see who was dead. If he found one whose life 
was extinct, he pulled him out and carried him to the cart. 
The living were very quick to show by their motions that 
they were not yet ready for the cart. 

At length I succeeded in getting a place in the same bed 
with another. Close to my bed lay a dragoon, whose left 
arm, shoulder, and part of the chest had been carried away 
by a shell shot, so that part of the interior could be seen ; it 
was the most cruel wound I have ever beheld. Some time 
after, a few men, some with one arm, some with one leg, some 
otherwise wounded, would amuse themselves by marching up 
and down the long rooms, commanded by some gay wooden 
leg. So light-hearted is the soldier. It was found necessary 
to prohibit these mock drillings. 

I was once present in the amputation-room, when a ser- 
geant, after his leg had been taken off, exclaimed, drawing 
his pipe, " Why, the fire is gone out after all." Perhaps it 
was from affectation that he said it, but it was, at all events, 
soldier-like affectation. 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 169 

I had had a letter of introduction and credit to a gentleman 
in Liege, whom it was now very important for me to see, in 
order to obtain the means of leaving the hospital ; but my 
memory failed me entirely. The cutting off of several nerves 
descending from the brain, and the ball grazing the skull, 
must have been the causes ; I only regained it afterwards by 
degrees. But even if I should be able to find him, would he 
recognize me ? Others had not known me in my sad guise ; 
why should he? Yet I was determined, at least, to make the 
trial. I took a large stick, and, slowly dragging myself along, 
left the hospital. I was obliged often to rest on the steps 
in the street, and people showed invariably great kindness 
towards me. A woman who sold fruit took a particular fancy 
to me, swore a king ought to be hung for allowing such lads 
as I was to take arms, and overwhelmed me with caresses, 
which I was incapable of parrying. People very often put 
money into my hand, and did not know what to make of it 
when I refused accepting it. 

On three different days I made the attempt to find the gen- 
tleman I was in quest of, but did not succeed. At last, on 
the fourth trial, I found the house ; I rang the bell with small 
hope of success. When the servant opened the gate the gen- 
tleman happened to stand on the piazza, and immediately 
called me by name. My sufferings were now, for the present, 
at an end. He gave me as much money as I wanted ; I ob- 
tained quarters in town, and walked every day to a place 
where any soldier could get his wounds dressed. While I lay 
wounded in Liege, one of my brothers was in the hospital of 
Brussels, and another in Aix-la-Chapelle — just distributed in 
a triangle. 

After I had been a considerable time in Liege, I met with 
one of our company, who told me that, while I was carried 
on the litter to the hospital, he followed on another, the bones 
of one of his arms having been shattered ; that after I had 
passed a certain corner, his carriers were beckoned at by a 
lady; they carried him into the house; it belonged to one of 
the richest wine merchants of the city. He met with the 



i ?o 



PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 



utmost kindness in his house, especially from the young lady, 
about sixteen years old. He was glad to find me, because he 
could not with ease converse with her. I went : Julie — this 
was her name — had the look of an angel. Alert whenever 
she could do anything for my wounded comrade, and not 
shunning labors, even the most disgusting — she prayed for 
him when she could not be of any active service. Often, 
when painful operations were performing on him, and her 
assistance was not required, she would kneel before her cru- 
cifix in a neighboring room, and pray for the assistance of 
Him who can heal all pains. I have ever since been unable 
to imagine an angel without her features. 

It was not long before I went daily to her house. I was 
delighted at finding this being after such rough handling; 
the contrast was immense. On the other hand, my great 
youth for a uniform — the down hardly budding on my chin 
— and with a wound of a peculiar kind, such as is seldom 
seen — shall I add that we fell in love with each other. 

Though I remained for a long time under the physician's 
care in Liege, I returned as soon as possible — and too soon 
for my health — to my mother, as our soldiers used to call 
their company, appropriately expressing in this homely way 
the warm attachment which an honorable soldier feels towards 
his comrades, officers, and regiment; towards that body in 
which alone he " is worth his price," and out of which he is 
an insulated nullity. Our physicians were continually obliged 
to guard against deceptions, when making out the lists of 
convalescents. 

The company is the soldier's home ; there he knows every- 
body and is known by all : and what a feeling when, as a 
battery is to be taken, or some other hard work to be done, 
the colonel looks round for a few seconds, and says, " Take 
the third or fourth" — in short, the company to which you 
belong ! A similar feeling extends of course over the whole 
regiment, and in like manner, as the uniform is of great im- 
portance, because it strengthens the feeling of uniformity and 
of honor, and produces a care not to " disgrace the coat," so 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 171 

is the name, given to a particular regiment in honor of some 
signal actions or other worthy deeds, of great effect. Mere 
numbers are too abstract ; a regiment which has often stood 
well the hardest buffetings, will, indeed, confer a peculiar sig- 
nification upon such a number. There were, for instance, in 
Napoleon's and Wellington's armies, regiments whose mere 
number needed only to be mentioned to awaken in every 
breast a soldier-like feeling ; yet a name is more pithy, more 
significant- — and affords an admirable means of rallying in 
times of danger. When, late in the afternoon of the 18th, 
our regiment passed Prince Blucher, he turned to his aide-de- 
camp, " Colberg ?" " Yes, your grace," was the answer, and 
the old man took off his hat in token of respect for our regi- 
ment. There were some moist eyes, I can assure you. With 
what a thrilling joy does not a sailor hear the name of his 
vessel ; and where is the man in the whole navy, where is the 
American in the whole Union, who would not grieve to see 
the name of a vessel which has become the nation's favorite 
— for instance, of a Constitution — changed for another not yet 
historical? Why are the names, at least, of famous ships, pre- 
served in the various navies, when the vessel herself cannot be 
kept afloat any longer? Should we have war again, congress 
might find a fit means for acknowledging the services of the 
most distinguished regiments, or rewarding those who suf- 
fered most, in bestowing upon them peculiar names, taken 
from the places of their hottest actions, or given in memory 
of our greatest men. Regiment Washington would not sound 
badly. 

Owing to my returning to the regiment before I was able 
to support its duties, I fell sick again. I underwent an attack 
of the worst kind of typhus fever, and was sent to the hospital 
at Aix-la-Chapelle. I was in a state of unconsciousness when 
I was brought into it, and remained so for several days. When 
I awoke, and for the first time returned to consciousness, I 
found myself in a long room, "the Fever Station," in which 
there were above sixty beds, ranged along both sides. Thus, 
again separated from my company, and from every human 



1 72 PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 

soul of my acquaintance — for my brother who took me to the 
hospital could not remain there — the knowledge of my being 
in the worst of all the rooms of an hospital, and the atmos- 
phere which carried with it to the senses the quick conviction 
that I was once more surrounded by sick and dying, made a 
deep impression upon me. I saw an old man by the side of 
my bed, whom I immediately recognized for one of the nurses, 
and asked him where I was. He answered in French that he 
did not understand me. I repeated my question in French, 
and he told me, "In the hospital of Aix-la-Chapelle." "What 
day is it?" "Christmas morning." Suddenly all the many 
thousand associations, connected in the mind of a German 
with Christmas, burst upon me, and, weakened by disease, I 
cried bitterly. The old nurse — Francois was his name — 
kindly tried to comfort me, and you will imagine that the 
mere idea of being surrounded by soldiers, and being myself 
one, soon checked the sad current of my feelings. But I will 
not dismiss this subject without expressing my gratitude to 
good old Francois. He will never know it, and, were he to 
read this, what would this paper gratitude be to him ? But it 
is to satisfy myself that I give vent to my feelings. How 
often hast thou tried to calm me, when, watching out of thy 
time at my bed, I asked what o'clock it was, and, irritated 
by fever and interrupted sleep, was angry with thee that it 
was not yet morning! Kind old Francois, how ready thou 
wert to do any service for me, though thy old age made 
walking a heavy task to thee ! How often hast thou begged 
the physician to allow me a larger portion, when, in a con- 
valescent state, my appetite went in its demands far beyond 
what a judicious treatment could allow me! The grave has 
probably closed by this time over thee. Be thy memory ever 
dear to me. 

It was not long before my sickness took a favorable turn, 
and I literally suffered — as I have already hinted — from a 
craving appetite. I was on half ration, and could not obtain 
more, though every morning and evening I would ask for a 
whole ration when the physician made his round. Reduced 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 173 

in strength, and young as I was, I had not sufficient judgment 
and energy to resist the cravings of my appetite, and began 
to ask my fellow-patients for pieces of bread which they had 
left. With greater anxiety have I seen there a piece of bread 
travel from bed to bed through all the sick hands before it 
reached me, than I now wait for the most savory canvas-back 
duck. I did not deviate with impunity from the physician's 
prescriptions ; I suffered a relapse, which brought me so near 
to the grave that I was given over. But — as I believe you 
know — I survived, and still remain among the living. 

I might give you some good stories of high and low life in 
an hospital. The good table of the surgeons — where I often 
dined, after I was somewhat restored to health — the interest 
which grows up among those who have been long together 
in a room — the childish disobedience of the soldier who will 
lay out his wits to obtain by stealth a herring from without — 
the preaching of some to their brethren, the fantastic proces- 
sions of others, — but this is not the place for it. 

I was carried, before my restoration, to the hospital of 
Cologne, and found again there an apothecary, who had 
already in Aix-la-Chapelle evinced the warmest interest for 
me, and without whose kind care I think it probable I should 
not write these lines to you. 

It was here in the hospital of Cologne that I, for the first 
time in my life, drew from my own experience a conclusion, 
which at every subsequent period has been confirmed ; namely, 
that ignorance creates distrust, and, if you extend it, want of 
knowledge makes us incapable of acting. As in the physical 
world we must know, before everything else, time and place 
— the importance of which is impressed so deeply on our 
mind, that a traveller, awakened from sleep by the stopping 
of the stage-coach, starts up with the words, Where are we ? 
What o'clock is it ? — so is it impossible for us to make a safe 
step in any occupation or enterprise whatever, if we have not 
a just knowledge of our situation. Thus, many acts of genius 
are considered as demonstrations of great boldness or moral 
courage, while, in fact, it is to the sagacity of genius which 



174 



PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 



enables its owner to see farther than others into the means of 
safety, as into all other things, that the attempt is due. But, 
to give the instance which taught me the above truth in an 
hospital. 

Soon after I was so far restored as to be able to sit in my 
bed, soldiers would request me to write for them to their 
families, which I did with much pleasure, because, besides the 
service I thus rendered them and their friends, I became the 
father confessor of my older comrades, and the agreeable 
surprise which they generally manifested, when I read the 
letter to them, at my having so well expressed what they 
wished to say, but had not been able to communicate to me, 
was ample reward for my trouble. All went on well, until 
one day, after having read one of these letters to a most stupid 
fellow, who had not yet sent home the least information of 
his having escaped with a wound from all the murderous bat- 
tles, I jocosely said, "You don't believe I wrote all this? I 
gave quite a different account of you." Enraged, he tore the 
letter, and I never succeeded in convincing him that what I 
said was meant as a joke; and that I could have no interest 
in giving a bad account of him, even should I dare to do it. 
Distrust was raised in him, and his powers were too limited 
to obtain a proper view of the case. The fool's wit is incred- 
ulity, as Raleigh says. The same happens every day between 
governments and nations to whom the former neglect to afford 
the means of gaining knowledge. 

It was not until long after peace had been concluded that 
I was so far restored to health as to be able to travel home. 
My family had given me up; letters had miscarried; and the 
last news they had heard of me was of a kind to encourage 
them but little ; so I truly gave them a surprise. Having 
arrived in Berlin, I went home on foot from the post-office; 
the streets, the houses, the shops, everything the same, and 
yet looking so differently to me. In one year I had grown 
older many years. I stepped into the house and looked 
around; it was all as before; the scenes of my childhood, the 
walls which enclosed the persons dearest to me; I went slowly 



THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 175 

up stairs ; x I opened the door. " Ah ! " cried my sister, 

and fell into my arms. Now, I had a dog with me, which a 
dragoon, who died in the bed next to mine, in Aix-la-Chapelle, 
had bequeathed to me with the broken accents of a man who 
is fast going. The animal had been at Waterloo, where it 
lost the end of its tail by a ball. I loved the beast, so did he 
me, and when he saw my sister hanging at my neck and sob- 
bing, he thought it was high time to defend his master ; so 
he flew at her, most mercilessly tearing her gown, until I saw 
it and, fortunately, before he did injury to herself. The ex- 
clamations of my dear sister, the howling of the dog, perhaps 
my own words, soon attracted all the other members of my 

family, and almost but where am I ? Am I writing my 

biography ? Come, come, let's leap from Waterloo and Berlin 
to New York again. 



1 Houses on the continent of Europe are often inhabited by several families, 
and generally open. The ringing of the bell, therefore, is not necessary to obtain 
admission, which, by the way, has some influence upon social intercourse, in our 
opinion. Intrigues could not possibly be so frequent in France and Italy, among 
many classes, had the visitor always to ring the bell, and thus to attract the atten- 
tion of the servants, before he could enter. 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES 

ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS, 1836-1869. 



Vol. I. — 12 177 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY, AS 

NECESSARY BRANCHES OF SUPERIOR 

EDUCATION IN FREE STATES. 

AN INAUGURAL ADDRESS DELIVERED IN SOUTH CAROLINA 
COLLEGE, DECEMBER 7, 1835. 



Gentlemen, — When the city of Leyden, in common with 
all the Low Countries, had fought through the bloodiest, and, 
perhaps, the noblest struggle for liberty on record, the great 
and good William of Orange offered her immunity from taxes, 
that she might recover from her bitter sufferings, and be re- 
warded for the important services which she had rendered to 
the sacred cause. Leyden, however, declined the offer, and 
asked for nothing but the privilege of erecting a university 
within her walls, as the best reward for more than human 
endurance and perseverance. 1 

This simple fact is a precious gem to the student of history ; 
for if the protection of the arts and sciences reflect great 
honor upon a monarch, though it be for vanity's sake, the 
fostering care with which communities or republics watch 
over the cultivation of knowledge and the other ennobling 
pursuits of man, sheds a still greater lustre upon themselves. 
Nowhere, in the whole range of history, does man appear 
in a more dignified character, than when a republic founds a 



1 "At the battle of Kinsale, in 1603, the English army, having destroyed the 
Spanish force, subscribed 1800/. to raise a monument, so as to leave a lasting 
memorial of their gallant achievement. They did not raise any sculptured 
marble or graven brass, but they sent the 1800/. to the celebrated Usher, to 
found the Dublin Library." — Major Layard. 

179 



180 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

new seminary of learning, or extends her liberal aid towards 
the support of a scientific institution, in whose prosperity she 
takes a just and fruitful pride. It is by the exertion of the 
people themselves, by the fruits of their own labor, by the 
free grant of their own means, that these schools for the cul- 
tivation of knowledge and the education of their sons are 
erected. Nothing but their fullest conviction of the happy, 
purifying, and invigorating effect which the diffusion of sci- 
ences and the training of the youthful mind exercise upon 
society, can induce them to establish or protect these nurseries 
of civilization. It is a voluntary tribute brought by a whole 
community to the superiority of letters and sciences, to the 
great, universal cause of learning. 

This consideration, gentlemen, renders the present moment 
one of pleasure, indeed, but also of great solemnity to me. I 
address through you, fellow-citizens, our state, which has not 
only founded the institution to assist in the guidance of which 
you have called me, but it seems also that South Carolina, 
after an arduous and great struggle, directs her first attention 
to her college. Parties lately so strenuously opposed to each 
other unite in the noble undertaking of using that impulse 
which a contest for principle ever gives to a civil community, 
for the benefit of the institution where the state expects her 
youth to be instructed, trained, and educated in all the sciences 
and duties which shall make them able to fill the most impor- 
tant stations in society and the highest places our country has 
to offer to talent and virtue. Thus has been verified our 
charter, which declares that one of the main objects for estab- 
lishing the college has been "to promote harmony within the 
whole community." You have reorganized this college, and 
it is natural that our whole state look with anxious expecta- 
tion upon her highest school. These circumstances, together 
with my conviction that much good can be done, and, conse- 
quently, by omission, much evil, and the importance of the 
chair to which I have been called, make me contemplate, at 
times, my new situation with solicitude. Yet I take courage 
in the hope that Heaven will not withhold its blessing from 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 181 

my sincere desire to do the best I can, and my firm deter- 
mination studiously to weigh and examine the suggestions 
which the wisdom of others or my own experience may 
make. 

That you, gentlemen, be the better enabled to judge how far 
the course I intend to pursue may answer your expectations, 
I shall state a few of my views respecting those sciences which 
your board of trustees has called me to teach in the college — 
History and Political Economy. With regard to education 
in general, I may be permitted to refer to a work where I have 
had occasion to develop my ideas at large — I mean my Con- 
stitution and Plan of Education for Girard College. 1 I have 
not found any reason to change what I have given there, as 
the result of my experience and meditation, nor does the 
different character of our college and the projected one in 
Philadelphia affect the general and fundamental principles of 
education. 

Of whatever kind the specific character of an institution 
for education may be, or in whatever branch a teacher may 
have to instruct, the great object of education must always 
remain the cultivation of the heart and the head, or, in other 
words, a moral and intellectual cultivation. The latter, or 
scientific education, ought again to consist of training and 
storing the mind — of storing it with sound knowledge and 
of training it in the habit of correct thought. It is at least as 
important that the student learn to study — to examine, inquire, 
and conclude, that he contract scientific habits, and that a 
genuine, warming, cheering, animating, love of knowledge be 
kindled within his soul, so that he may enter life as a being 
longing for truth and capable of independent thought, as it is 
that he should take with him from the college a store of use- 
ful learning, which is to become the nucleus for everything he 
may acquire in future by farther study or experience. 

And as the youth intrusted to the college ought finally to 
exchange it for the busy scenes of life with a healthy, vigor- 



Published in Philadelphia, 1834. 



1 82 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

ous, and practical mind, well provided, in a scientific way, for 
the immense variety of knowledge which will burst upon him 
with all the dangers of error, so ought the college to send 
him into the mazes and moral confusion of the world, and into 
all the temptations which never fail to beset the pleasant or 
the weary ways of the wanderer through life, healthful and 
strong in religion — that religion which is truth, real life, and 
real strength. 

In this respect, too, the student ought not only to receive 
in our institution a store of religious knowledge, but his soul 
ought to have been trained in morals and religion, partly by 
the example of his teachers, partly by the friendly intercourse 
and incidental but constant advice and inciting instruction, 
which is possible by this intercourse only. There are few 
more precious gifts an institution like our college can bestow 
upon the youth reared within its walls than the grateful re- 
membrance of a teacher's friendship. I ask you, with whom 
experience has already proved the truth, whether it be not 
a gift which remains a rich treasure to the latest hour of our 
life, though all the scenes around us may have changed, and 
which we bless with gratitude whenever we reflect upon our 
pilgrimage. 

If friendship and the relations of kindness and confidence 
have rendered the heart susceptible, the moral advice, as well 
as the scientific instruction of the teacher, will sink into it as 
the grain sinks into carefully-tilled ground and germinates 
and brings fruit by itself. But they remain matter of memory 
only, cold, lifeless words, as if written on a tablet from which 
every accident may blot them, if kindness does not give them 
and affection does not receive them. Or they may be like 
words chiselled in marble — they may be deeply engraven, but 
the marble feels them not, and time erases them; Let the 
student leave the college with the examples of virtue as vivid 
images before his eye, that they may be ever ready to his mind 
in the sad days of trial; not like images, whose beauty, per- 
adventure, he admires, though they have no effect upon his 
action, but like the familiar traits of beloved friends, whose 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 183 

memory he is ashamed to offend by unworthy acts. Let him 
before all perceive, and his soul be penetrated with the truth, 
that he stands such as he is, not as he appears to mortal eye, 
before his Maker, who knows his very essence, without cloak 
or coloring, who looks into what we are, and weighs not what 
we profess, and who can only be served by the fervor of a 
pure heart and an honest mind, not by appearance, words, or 
violence, not by hatred, or dissembling, or persecution, who 
will not ask to what class or set of men we have belonged, or 
under what name we have shielded ourselves, but before whom 
each shall have to answer for what each has done himself. 
"Single is each man born; single he dieth; single he receiveth 
the reward of his good, and single the punishment of his evil 
deeds." Thus said an Eastern sage 1 a thousand years before 
the common era. 

This important end, the moral cultivation of the student, it 
is in the power of every science taught in the college to pro- 
mote ; mathematics, the natural sciences, philology by no 
means excepted ; but to the province of none it belongs so 
peculiarly as to the science which you have assigned to me, 
constantly to direct the mind of the student to the best and 
surest principles upon which human society is founded, or for 
which nations have contended, to the conspicuous examples 
of virtue or vice, to the safe operation of wise laws, or the 
detrimental course which cunning or fell ambition, short- 
sighted cowardice, and careless or intentional disregard of 
right and duty, always take with individuals as well as with 
whole communities and nations. 

History, in an ethical point of view, may be considered as 
practical morals, and in this respect it is of peculiar impor- 
tance in the course of instruction pursued with the sons of 
republicans, who, at some future period, have themselves to 
guide the state, when no external force, no power above them, 
no consideration of interest foreign to the well-being of their 



x Menu, the Hindoo legislator. See the Ordinances of Menu in vol. iii. of the 
works of Sir William Jones, London, 1799, chap. iv. 



^4 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

own body politic, shall prescribe to them the course they have 
to steer ; when the only compass they have to sail by shall 
be their zealous ardor, their correct knowledge of duty, and 
their conscientious love of justice and liberty — I might say 
or liberty, for justice and liberty are in many respects synony- 
mous. Then, when their genuine love of country alone shall 
influence their conduct as the makers, executors, and defenders 
of the laws and institutions of their society — in short, when 
they enter into political or any other practical life, it is a mat- 
ter of moment indeed, whether the examples of stern duty and 
" tenacious perseverance," z of wise societies, that have made 
their laws on the principles of right and truth, and have con- 
sidered it a noble privilege of freemen to yield steady obedi- 
ence to good laws — whether or not all the experience treasured 
up in history is before their eyes and induces them to prefer 
lasting fame, or essential good bestowed upon their country 
even without acknowledgment, to the ever changeable impulse 
of the moment. 

The abstract is brought home to the human understanding 
by instances. We see this in the explanation of any general 
principle, in daily life, we see it with children, in sciences, in 
philosophy, in law, and even in mathematics ; we see it in the 
debates on the floor of legislative halls — in short, we find 
everywhere that, though there is in man a constant tendency 
to abstract and generalize, which forms the greater part of all 
thinking, there is likewise a constant necessity to individualize, 
and to bring home again to others and ourselves by individual 
cases, that which we have gained by the process of general- 
izing ratiocination. This is also the case with regard to re- 
ligion and morals, to the principles of liberty and political 
ethics ; and it is no mean prerogative of the science of his- 
tory that she is able to exhibit patriotism, wisdom, rectitude, 
and the most important principles which concern the well- 
being of man, or the opposite of these virtues and principles, 
embodied, made solid, cast in encouraging or warning exam- 



Vir propositi tenax. 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 185 

pies, which the life of individuals or the fate of entire com- 
munities afford. 

Another and a great benefit to be derived from a profound 
study of history or the correct teaching of its results — I do 
not speak of the superficial perusal of partial representations 
— is that this science makes us liberal in judging of past 
periods and foreign countries, as it makes us modest with 
regard to our own times, and cautious towards those who 
appear before the public, vaunting their new systems or dis- 
coveries of new principles, as if mankind had been destined 
to live on in ignorance and barbarity, until they at length made 
their appearance with all the requisite means for the founda- 
tion of man's happiness, so that human felicity will have to 
date from their birth or the publication of some of their works. 
There is an expanding power in the study of history, as well 
as one which gives acuteness and penetration. 

On the other hand it is history again which enables us justly 
to appreciate the conquests which our own age may have 
made in the cause of civilization, and to separate the essential 
from the accidental, so that we may with greater firmness 
protect and defend its growth and expansion. 

The study of history has a similar though more powerful 
effect with that derived from extensive travelling. We travel 
back into former periods, and compare them to the present 
times. There we shall often find better things than we are 
possessed of; sometimes we shall see that things which looked 
so proud and noble at a distance are inferior to what we have, 
though it may be less glittering or attractive to the unexperi- 
enced. Judicious travelling and impartial study of history 
make us just towards others and ourselves. History teaches 
us that mankind are not of to-day, that it was the will of the 
Creator that mankind should form a society — that human 
society should form one contiguous whole ; one member, one 
period, one age of which always necessarily influences the 
next. Man is essentially a social being, in a moral sense 
much more so still, than in a physical ; and society, again, 
is essentially what it is by its intimate connection with all 



1 86 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

previous ages. Who art thou, son of to-day? And where 
wouldst thou be had not Columbus discovered, had not Por- 
tugal pressed on, had not Ptolemy erred, had not the Chal- 
deans observed the stars ? What would be thy liberty had 
not the signers been of British descent and yet familiar with 
ideas matured by the European continent; had not thy fathers 
dethroned the Stuarts, had not the barons extorted the charter, 
had not the Germanic tribes revived decaying Europe ? What 
would be thy science and civilization, had not the Middle 
Ages struggled and speculated; the Arabians not collected, pre- 
served, and kindled ; Rome not received, ripened, conquered, 
and civilized ; Etruria not pioneered and prepared ; had 
Greece not refined and discriminated, colonized and traded, 1 
fought, sung, built, recorded, and meditated; had Egypt not 
organized, invented, and husbanded ; 2 India not contemplated? 
Without a mother there is no son, and without a previous 



1 " No nation of the ancient world has sent out so many colonies as the 
Greeks; and these colonies have become so important in a variety of respects 
that it is impossible to obtain a just view of the early periods of Universal His- 
tory without a proper knowledge of them. For with them is not only closely 
connected : a, the history of civilization of their mother-country ; but also, b, the 
history of the early Universal Commerce ; and, c, some of these colonies became 
so powerful, that they exercised the most decided influence upon Political His- 
tory." — Text Book of the History of the States of Antiquity, with particular 
Reference to their Constitutions, Commerce, and Colonies, by A. H. L. Heeren, 
page 197. The expression Universal Commerce (Welthandel) is used by the 
Germans to designate that commerce which extends to all or most of the nations 
known at the time, which consists of the great exchange of goods among the 
different and distant members of the human family, and is, therefore, always 
of paramount importance to the historian. Thus they would say: England and 
America are at present almost entirely in possession of the Welthandel. 

2 " Refutation of the idea, as if the Egyptian priests had been in possession 
of great speculative knowledge ; whilst their science had, chiefly, reference to 
practical life, and thus became, in their hands, the i?istrumenta dominatio?iis 
over the great mass, by which they made themselves indispensable, and kept the 
people in dependance. — Explanations of the close relation between their deities, 
their astronomic and mathematical knowledge on the one hand and agriculture 
on the other." — Ibid., page 75. Subsequent and extensive inquiries into the 
antiquities of Egypt by the Champollions, Belzoni, and others have proved how 
high a degree of perfection the mechanical arts and agriculture had obtained 
with that early nation, and how much we owe them. 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 187 

generation there is no present one. And were man bent on 
destroying the vessel which carried civilization from the past 
period to the one he lives in, it would be in vain — in vain and 
mad as it was when the French Convention decreed that all 
the documents in the archives should be burnt and all the 
seals should be broken in order to annihilate the history of 
their country. Man cannot travel out of his time, as surely 
not as he cannot help being the child of his progenitor ; he 
must build with the materials which his forefathers left him. 
He may and even must develop, add, improve, and change, 
but foolish temerity only could dare to say : " I will begin 
anew." God has not made a people which shall date its civili- 
zation from a given day, but he created a species, which was 
gradually to develop itself. 

Even principles of the most universal character receive, 
according to this decree, a different development with different 
nations and in different periods ; and as the simple truths of 
the gospel were and are embodied in different churches and 
different systems of theology in Greece, Italy, Germany, 
England, France, and with ourselves, so has the inextinguish- 
able desire for liberty existed wherever human breast has 
heaved ; yet British liberty differs and must forever differ from 
ours, and both will differ from French liberty, whenever firmly 
established ; as modern liberty differs, and cannot otherwise 
but differ, from the liberty of the Middle Ages and ancient 
freedom. 

I trust I am too well known to you, gentlemen, that I 
should be obliged to guard against a misunderstanding, as if 
I belonged either to the so-called " historical school," which 
considers everything, which has been handed down through 
generations, as lawful, good, wise, and not to be touched ; 
perhaps not even to be judged and freely examined, merely 
because it has been handed down : or to that political sect 
which misapplies what I remarked above with regard to the 
necessary modifications of principles, and maintains that no 
entirely new institution, differing in character from the pre- 
vious ones in a certain society, ought to be established, or any 



1 88 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

new principle to be adopted from others. I am equally far 
from either. All I wished to convey is, that even if we adopt 
new principles and found new institutions, they again will 
attach themselves to our previous ones according to the ele- 
ments of which our society consists, that there is no absolute 
re-beginning in history possible, and that the knowledge of 
this fact will make us cautious, in the same degree as a 
thorough acquaintance with history will make us bold, where 
boldness is required in order to change or even to destroy. 
However, I will not anticipate a subject on which I shall have 
to offer a few more remarks. 

One great lesson of practical importance, learned from his- 
tory by the simplest induction, is, that as we now look upon 
by-gone parties, once arrayed against each other in fearful 
contest, and as we adjudge to each some wrong, or, as we 
judge of the one far milder than their contemporary adversa- 
ries did, so shall posterity look upon our strifes and conflicts. 
Let us then learn one of the greatest acts of wisdom, to anti- 
cipate the judgment of time, and divest ourselves of partial 
and party views, and assume a loftier station from which we 
may contemplate our friends as well as our opponents with 
greater justice. It is difficult and yet necessary for the true 
valuation of events and actions, passing before our own eyes, 
that we should extricate ourselves from all the personal effects 
which they may produce upon us, should reduce the apparent 
magnitude with which objects, close before us, appear com- 
pared to distant, though in reality much larger objects, and 
should see them in their natural connection with the many 
others which surround them, as if seen from a distant eleva- 
tion. This we learn best by studying history; it is this his- 
torical bird's-eye view which constitutes one of the choicest 
acquisitions, to be obtained in no other way. Our mind be- 
comes gradually accustomed to see the various subjects, 
striking, dazzling, or perplexing at their time, as if they were 
of greater importance than anything that ever had appeared 
before on the horizon of history, in their true light and bearing, 
and thus skilled — for skill it is — we find it easier to judge 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 189 

correctly of present things. He is a wise man who can 
reflect on present things as calmly as if they had been re- 
corded long ago on the pages of history, and who can weigh 
matters of history with an earnestness and energy, and all 
the penetrating power of lively interest, as if they were events 
of his own times ; he is a wise statesman who has learned to 
use his personal experience as a clew to decipher history, and 
who can use history as a clew to decipher the often mysteri- 
ous pages of his own age. 

I am no advocate of theories which cannot possibly be 
realized, or which, if put into practice, would injure the best 
side most. It was, therefore, not my intention to indicate by 
my remarks that it would be truly wise always to look upon 
two contending parties in our own times with indifference, 
persuaded that both are partly right and partly wrong. I 
know full well that in order to obtain great objects we are 
obliged to unite the power of many, and that, in order to ob- 
tain this, compromise with regard to minor objects is requi- 
site ; in short, that frequently the action by party cannot be 
dispensed with ; and, also, that history has recorded contests 
in which no peace was possible before one of the conflicting 
parties was annihilated. There was in Italy no rest and quiet 
possible as long as there existed Guelphs and Ghibellines ; 
and the time is drawing near when, in Europe, one or the 
other of the two great contending parties must be annihilated. 
For history teaches us that, however salutary the check of 
different parties upon each other may be, and however noble 
a feature of the British annals it is, that in them we find the 
first development of a regular and lawful opposition ; x yet 
as soon as two parties, both provided with intellectual and 
physical means, cease to agree even on their first and original 
starting-point, as soon as they radically disagree, then the 
period of that misunderstanding begins which thwarts every 
good purpose, disjoints every link, in which distrust changes 



x I have given my views on this important subject of modern history more at 
length in my Stranger in America, pages 39 and seq., London edit,; pages 31 
and seq., Philadelphia edition. 



1 90 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

the very language, made to be the tie of man, into a means 
of confusion and ill will, and the chasm between the two is 
increased by every uttered word : until at length the contest 
of annihilation cannot be any longer avoided — the period of 
labor before the birth of a new era. What, however, shall 
enable us to make this momentous distinction ? How are we 
to ascertain whether the contest be really on primary and 
fundamental points, or whether our own excitement only 
paints to us the struggle in so glaring colors ? Nothing on 
earth but the experience, which the mind gathers in wander- 
ing through history. 

If the study of this science has enabled the student to judge 
more calmly of the contest he is himself engaged in, he will 
be the firmer, the more decided and persevering, the clearer 
he has perceived that the existing struggle is one which will 
be found important in the cause of mankind even before the 
tribunal of posterity. 

This with regard to events ; as to theories, how many ap- 
parently new ones, in science, religion, and politics, are stripped 
of all their charm of novelty and the exciting power they 
exercise upon the vanity of man as soon as they are known 
to have attracted and excited in the same degree, centuries 
ago ! And to how many apparently insignificant facts is not 
at once the attention of him directed who is able to discern 
that their characteristics present entirely new features ! 

But are we able to rely on history ? Does not our daily 
experience of the many obstacles in the way of arriving at 
truth even of facts which have happened within the narrowest 
circle around us, within our own family, shake all confidence 
in history ? Ought we not rather to follow those who break 
through the difficulty by the pretence that they believe nothing, 
or, at least rely on nothing, except on what they have per- 
ceived by their own senses ? May we not in particular feel 
disposed to distrust all history as a suspicious witness, when 
in our own times a great historian has thrown at least a very 
serious doubt over a whole portion of the annals of mankind, 
received without suspicion by the successive generations of 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 19 r 

many thousand years? Does not history lose on this account 
her claims to the title of a science ? Is it not true, what one 
of the shrewdest observers that ever recorded the events of 
their own times, Cardinal Retz, says in his Memoirs, that 
" all we read in the lives of most men is false" ? * Ought we 
not to disown history as Raleigh burnt his manuscript ? 

History, or that which we find recorded and the consequent 
opinion of posterity — may err. 2 No doubt can exist as to this 
point. I do believe that posterity may be deceived. Pretended 
facts may be so plausibly represented, and they may be of so 
peculiar a character, that contradiction becomes impossible, 
and posterity receive them as truth. Merit or guilt may be 
undeservedly assigned. We never gain by deceiving ourselves, 
and it is as little true that history always awards the true 
share to every agent in an important transaction, as it is in 
common morals true that every criminal will meet, at length, 
with his due, by the arm of human justice, the frequent repe- 
tition of this assertion, even in the form of proverbs, notwith- 
standing. But though it be a most noble task of history to 



1 Cardinal Retz gives, in vol. i. of his Memoirs, an interesting account of a 
drive he took with Marshal Turenne, when both of them mistook a distant pro- 
cession of friars for an apparition of ghosts. Both started to meet them ; Turenne 
so calm and grave that Cardinal Retz said the next day he would have sworn 
that Turenne had been afraid, though the latter assured him that, not only had 
he not been afraid, but his first sensation had been that of joy, because he had 
always longed to see ghosts ; and farther, that he would have sworn that Car- 
dinal Retz had not had the slightest fear, on the contrary, that he had likewise 
been glad to meet with this apparition, while Retz candidly confessed that he 
had been really afraid, but put on the semblance of alacrity merely from shame. 
He then makes the above reflection, with several acute remarks. 

2 To be distinct, I will give my definition of history : History is a scientific 
account of the authenticated and remarkable facts which have influenced the 
social state of man or bear testimony of its state at a given period. The word 
fact is taken here in the widest sense which can be given to it according to its 
etymology, including single acts, events, and institutions. That the account be 
scientific, requires that the facts be presented in their proper order, according to 
their true and essential connection with each other, so that a historical relation 
is a picture, not an enumeration. The same definition applies to any special 
history, with the exception only that we have to place the special society, science, 
art, or institution under consideration, instead of " social state of man." 



I 9 2 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

constitute the supreme tribunal of which posterity forms the 
jury, and though it may succeed in many and important cases 
in ferreting out the precise truth, yet this is not her highest 
task. Her most elevated problem is to find out the moral 
causes of the great events which influence the fate of the 
human species, and to represent them according to" their in- 
ternal and necessary connection. Well may be applied to her 
in this respect the inscription over the anatomical theatre at 
Havana : 

Plus quam vita loquax mors taciturna docet? 

As we are abler to judge of the features of an extensive 
plain, when we are at a distance and on an elevation, so we are 
more capable of determining the character of a whole period 
at a distance from it, if we have previously endeavored to as- 
certain by minute study the accurate state of many of its com- 
ponent parts. Individuals and single events must be known, 
yet the higher object of history is to study institutions, and 
the masses, of which the individuals, however distinguished 
and in whatever eminent a degree they may appear at the 
time as the leaders, form but a part. They think they lead, 
but they are led. 2 Without this, the inquiry into the institu- 
tions, and the causes which moved the masses, history is but 
partly history, little more than a chronicle of party events. 

Whether Casca really gave the first blow to Caesar on the 
fatal Ides of March 3 may never be ascertained with undis- 



1 This inscription was at least to be placed there, according to the Diario de 
la Habana, Nov. 20, 1834. The whole is this : 

Naturae Ingenium Dissecta Cadavera Pandunt : 
Plus Quam Vita Loquax Mors Taciturna Docet. 
a Der ganze Strudel strebt nach oben ; 
Du glaubst zn schieben und du wirst geschoben. 

(Mephist. in the Walpm-gisn. in Faust.) 
[The whole whirling mass strives upwards ; 
Thou believest thou pushest, but thou art pushed.] 
These well-known words of Goethe find no readier application anywhere 
than in history, as so many other wise sayings put by that great poet in the mouth 
of the arch-fiend. 

3 Plutarch, Life of Julius Caesar. 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 



193 



putable certainty ; but it will forever be a matter of history 
beyond a doubt, that a great man of the name of Julius Caesar 
lived towards the beginning of the vulgar era. Whether this 
great man was animated by noble designs, after having 
arrived at the fullest conviction that Rome could not possibly 
continue to exist with her ancient republican form of govern- 
ment, and that her whole polity required a thorough change, 
or whether he followed mainly the impulse of selfish ambition 
when he defied the established law of his country and crossed 
the Rubicon — in other words, the internal history of that ex- 
traordinary man may remain forever an unsettled question ; 
but it will, nevertheless, remain a matter of historical certainty, 
that this individual was an instrument to fulfil the great des- 
tiny of Rome, to conquer uncivilized countries, and to engraft 
Roman institutions upon theirs, to carry, over Western Europe, 
the seeds of Roman civilization, after it had matured within 
the narrower limits of Italy. Or are we to believe, with Har- 
douin, that all the Greek and Roman historians are the 
spurious productions of inventive monks ? 

Whether Galilei was or was not tortured, or threatened 
with the rack, when he stood before the tribunal of the In- 
quisition, may be a question never to be decided on positive 
and satisfactory evidence ; x but it is, nevertheless, a well- 
founded and proven fact in the history of human thought, 
that we behold in the case of Galilei another instance of the 
labors and struggles, unavoidable when mankind sever them- 
selves from any system or institution, which has exerted an 
extensive and penetrating influence, and the gates of a new 



1 Some individuals have at least strong suspicions that Galilei was tortured ; 
see, for instance, Mr. Niebuhr's opinion in my Reminiscences of Mr. Niebuhr; 
others disbelieve it. 

I incline to the latter, not because I consider his persecutors incapable of such 
an act; for we know that the torture was at that time, on the European conti- 
nent, considered a lawful means of eliciting truth, and we know too that the 
tribunals which judged of men's opinions made a most liberal use of this con- 
venient instrument. My view of the case is founded upon the fact that Galilei 
had many powerful friends, and that he was, while at Rome, during his persecu- 
tion, in a degree under the protection of Florence. Still, it is quite possible. 
Vol. I.— 13 



I 9 4 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

era are forced open ; that mankind will, forever, be divided 
into two great parties, the one zealous to maintain that which 
is established, the other anxious to shake off the fetters of 
authority, and moving on, conscious of the independence of 
the human intellect; that Aristotle, the master of thought, 
after having strongly affected those distant and entirely foreign 
children of the East, even when their religious phrenzy swept 
everything before them, had ruled the mind of man for many 
centuries, though misconstrued, misjudged, and misapplied, 
and had thus firmly fastened on the human mind, that men 
of so powerful intellect and such greatness of soul as the 
sage of Pisa were requisite to wrestle the great charter of 
free inquiry from the clinching hands of dogma and dictation ; 
and that those who have not been endowed with the capacity 
of enjoying the sublime pleasure of searching and finding 
truth, will ever be prompted by envy and fear for their au- 
thority or interest to stigmatize the faithful priests of truth, 
and to use that power, which the bulk of ignorance always 
places at their disposal, to overwhelm and crush the first and 
single fighting heroes of a great cause. 

History is, like all other sciences, but a human science, and, 
therefore, subject to error; but is astronomy not any longer a 
science because Sir John Herschel informs us from the Cape 
of Good Hope, that the comet he has observed with his 
powerful instrument moves in a different orbit from the path 
calculated by the astronomers according to the theory of the 
immortal Gauss, and which had been found correct in all pre- 
vious instances ? 

The task of the historian is always an arduous and solemn 
one, whether he act as the conscientious recorder of truth, as 
Herodotus seems to have felt the whole dignity of his voca- 
tion. After having stated the names of several individuals 
who had been mentioned at his time as having done the 
treacherous deed of guiding the Persians over the mountains, 
by which Leonidas and his brave band were surrounded and 
slain, he solemnly continues: "But Ephialtes was the man 
who guided them on the path over the mountains, and him I 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 195 

write down as the wicked one." 1 Or as Gibbon must have 
felt it when musing amidst the ruins of the Campo Vaccino, 
and the muse of history inspired him with the great idea of 
writing the downfall of the mightiest empire. 

Or whether the historian pursue the path of truth, ready to 
sacrifice long cherished opinions or endeared delusions, and to 
receive the sneers of his contemporaries as the reward of his 
toilsome labor, neither bent upon an ingenious defence of a 
theory which flatters his vanity, nor fearful of encountering 
powerful opposition, as Niebuhr did, when he blotted out 
many chapters of history, remembered by all of us with 
fondness. 

Or whether he serve the sacred science by teaching it to the 
youth ; when he shows them how one society, institution, or 
system, how one age and century, how one race grew out of 
the preceding one and trod over its grave ; how and why one 
state of things began, grew, and rose to eminence, and why it 
sunk, decayed, and fell. 

I know of but few stations more dignified than that of a 
public teacher of history ; scarcely of one more elevated than 
that of a teacher appointed by a republic to instruct her chil- 
dren in civil history. For if history is a science important to 
every one, it is peculiarly so to republicans — to members of 
a community which essentially depends upon institutions. If 
they have to defend them against open attacks or plausible 
heresies, they must know them, must be well acquainted with 
their essential character, as well as with the insinuating plausi- 
bility and the ruinous consequences with which those under- 
mining heresies have been advanced with other nations and 
in distant ages. History is the memory of nations ; oh ! how 
many have been lost for want of this memory, and on account 
of careless, guilty ignorance ! 

If they have to develop and improve their institutions ; if 
they have to adapt them to the gradual changes of time, which 
is as necessary as unbending resistance against encroachments 



Herodotus, vii. (Polymnia) 214. 



I9 6 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

made upon others, it is equally necessary for the citizen to 
know them ; and an institution is not known by its name, or 
charter, but by its operation, its history. If they have to 
watch over the dearest interests of man, perhaps in a small 
minority against a broad current of popular delusion, they 
ought to have the examples of men before their eyes who 
preferred to fall in a righteous cause rather than to be borne 
along on the swelling tide of enticing popularity. If they are 
expected to be consistent, and if no citizen can be consistent 
through life, who has not buckled on the armor of fortitude, 
then their souls ought early to be prepared for that civil buoy- 
ancy which bears up against all painful disappointments, and 
commands ever new means and resources after each loss. 
And what can prepare us for this manly cheerfulness ? Nothing 
but elevated views and devotion to principle. What, how- 
ever, gives us this enlargement of the soul ? Our knowledge 
of the gradual progress of man. 

If ambition or the power of emulation is one of the primary 
and most active agents in the whole moral creation, which 
God has planted in the heart of man as one of his noblest 
attributes, and if no society can be so low, so abject, so foul 
as when this moral element is extinguished in the bosom of 
its members, then they ought to learn in their early youth, by 
striking examples, how necessary and how dangerous an agent 
it is, how it has stimulated great men to overcome the most 
disheartening obstacles, and how it has ruined men whom 
nature seemed to have formed as a boast of her powers ; that 
ambition, as all other ejementary agents in the moral or phys- 
ical world, as fire and water, brings us thousandfold blessings, 
if watched and guided, but woe and misery if, a maddened 
element, it breaks down the dykes and mounds of law and 
reason and rushes over fertile fields and plains, cultivated by 
the care of generations, to leave behind it the blast of sterile 
sand which chokes the tenderest vegetation, and stints and 
cripples all vigor, joy, and life of nature. 

If the power of building up or destroying rest in its pleni- 
tude with the people, then they ought to learn, when young, 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 197 

the principles which must direct their actions, and the modifi- 
cations which these principles have to undergo if applied. If 
those who now are under the care and guidance of this insti- 
tution founded by the state, have in turn to guide her helm, 
then they ought to know how to navigate the vessel of the 
state between the cliffs and dangers of politics ; they ought to 
know where others, who sailed before them, have been wrecked, 
and they ought to learn in time to distinguish an approaching 
pirate by his suspicious movements, and not to be beguiled 
by friendly colors, until it is too late to resist the fiend. And 
let us not forget that the sea of politics is nowhere an open, 
easy main, on which only common skill in navigation is re- 
quired ; except perhaps in some cases, where the vast waters 
of absolute power roll their monotonous waves. The politics 
of liberty require watchful helmsmen, wise pilots, who have 
taken out their license in the school of experience, and his- 
tory must lay down the chart by which they have to weather 
the dangerous points and breakers. 

If they shall love liberty they ought to know how precious 
a good it is; how powerfully she has inspired men of all 
nations and all ages, even so powerfully that some of them 
have been willing to toil in repelling those attacks, which are 
not recorded because they were repelled. It is easy to die for 
our country, but it is difficult to live a laborious life for her 
when the victory becomes hardly known. 

To prepare youths for these, the greatest exertions of a 
citizen, it is necessary to exalt their souls by the views which 
history alone can open to them, and to show them how sacred 
those interests are which require these exertions. If the purest 
patriotism shall be kindled in their bosoms, let them see that 
the principles which they maintain are eternal, and that the 
country for which they live is not an accidental mass of men, 
made up but to-day, but that they are integrant parts of a 
society for which others, long passed by, have lived as they 
are expected to live. If they are to be put on their guard 
against that enthusiasm which evaporates with the first bitter 
experience, it is equally necessary to imbue them with sound 



198 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

knowledge of their country, and of mankind in general, that 
they may be safe against the maddening enticements of bril- 
liant phantoms. 

Two things seem to me of equal importance to a good 
citizen ; if the one or the other be wanting no safety can exist 
for a free state, and liberty is at most but a happy accident — 
I mean cheerful devotion and jealous distrust. Where the 
former is wanting, where the state is founded upon mere 
negative principles, where the " constitution is nothing but 
an act of distrust for the future security of a people," 1 as it 
was lately proclaimed from the French tribune, society is es- 
sentially dissolved, and must hasten to a speedy end, or drag 
on the unproductive life of anarchy. Where the latter— dis- 
trust — is wanting, the people will soon be enslaved. Many 
nations have fallen under the hands of tyranny from gratitude! 
The words of one of the greatest defenders of liberty that 
ever spoke to that people, "with whom liberty had been a 
passion, an instinct," 2 should forever be remembered by all 
citizens of a free country. Demosthenes said to his Greeks, 
when, indeed, conceited self-sufficiency and excess of liberty, 
or rather lawlessness, 3 had made them unworthy of that 
liberty, which was the breath of his life : " Many things have 
been invented to protect and defend cities, such as ramparts, 
walls, fosses, and other things of the kind ; and all these 
things are made by the hands of men and require exertion ; 
but the nature of wise men contains in itself a common pro- 
tection, useful and salutary to all, but especially so to the 
people against tyranny. And what is this ? Distrust. This 



1 Thouvenel in the session of the French chamber in 1831. 

2 Westminster Review, No. xxxii. 

3 Plato de Rep., viii. 14, translated by Cicero de Rep., i. 43 : Quum enim in- 
explebiles populi fauces exaruerunt libertatis siti, malisque usus iile ministris, 
non modice temperatam sed nimis meracem libertatem sitiens hauserit, etc. 

And ibid., c. 15, Cicero, c. 44: Nam ut ex nimia potentia principum oritur 
interitus principum, sic hunc nimis liberum populum libertas ipsa servitute 
adficit. Sic omnia nimia — in contraria fere convertunt, maximeque in rebus 
publicis evenit; nimiaque ilia libertas et populis et privatis in nimiam servitutem 
cadit. 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 



199 



preserve ; in this confide. As long as you retain this no evil 
will befall you." 1 So far Demosthenes. 

It is these two elements of sound and true patriotism with 
which it shall be my endeavor to imbue the scholars, in leading 
them through the successive periods of history, and thus to 
assist in preparing them for the weighty and responsible duties 
which every one of them will have to fulfil at some future 
period as citizens of a free republic ; it is according to these 
views, which I have had the honor briefly to exhibit to you, 
that I shall try to teach the science, and to teach how to study 
it; and according to which it is my anxious desire to establish 
the necessary relation between the scholars and myself. I 
wish to be considered by them as their friend. Sincere as I 
know these wishes to be, and if I am not quite an unworthy 
son of that nation to which the palm of patient and extensive 
investigation and comprehensive views in history has been 
awarded 2 (I use the words of an English writer), may I not 



1 Second Philippic. 

2 In the Introduction to the British and Foreign Review, or European Quarterly 
Journal, lately established, it is said, on page 7 : 

" The muse of history has ever been considered as looking with a benignant 
eye upon her own province in British literature. Nor would it be difficult to 
mention names which have shed glory upon their country, by the fidelity as 
well as elegance of their recitals ; and by a peculiar felicity of arrangement of 
topics, have succeeded in keeping curiosity awake during a protracted history 
of ages, by no means abounding in attractive incidents and characters. But 
still in the patient and indefatigable search of truth, in pursuing her faintest 
traces through the labyrinth of error in which the imposture or credulity of 
ancient annalists have frequently involved her; in the successful perseverance 
with which they disencumber the precious ore from the worthless mass in which 
it is concealed, and in reducing legends into genuine history, we must, at this 
day, yield the palm to Teutonic industry and zeal. Nor should we be justified 
in concluding that, because their search is minute, their views are short-sighted. 
They seem, indeed, to combine an extreme minuteness of observation with a 
telescopic range of vision ; and to draw their conclusions with a soundness of 
judgment which shows that they see objects, at last, in their natural colors and 
true dimensions. If we may justly claim the distinction of having brought phi- 
losophy to the feet of history, to gather materials from which to construct her 
system, and to demolish those which had been reared on the basis of imagination, 
modern Germany has the credit of having reversed the process, by placing the 
instructress under the tuition of her pupil, and thus teaching history to test the 



200 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

hope that my labors may not remain without some good 
effect ? 

Civil history, the main subject of instruction in history in 
the college, will necessarily lead to inquiries into the various 
subjects of politics. It is not only my intention to treat of 
them while I am proceeding in history, but also to teach them, 
if time can be found, in separate lectures. On the other hand, 
I shall always endeavor to exhibit the whole state of civiliza- 
tion of a country or period under discussion, and try to give 
a rapid sketch of the literature, the state of sciences, the arts, 
its commerce and agriculture, which will lead to touch upon 
subjects more properly belonging to the other science for 
which you have appointed me. As I shall have frequent 
occasion to speak on the subject of politics, so will the intro- 
duction of history often lead me to topics of political economy, 
and in the same way shall I make them the subject of separate 
instruction. 

Political Economy, treated as a scientific whole, is of com- 
paratively late origin, though various subjects belonging to 
its province have at different times been treated even in remote 
periods. There are still many persons who " do not believe 
in political economy," and will of course not allow it the rank 
of a science, as a few years ago, when Werner broke a new 
path for mineralogy, many people, and most distinguished 
ones among them, smiled at the idea of calling mineralogy a 
science, or believing in the possibility of. systematically and 
scientifically treating what they called "the stones." 2 Nay, 
there are still persons who deny that geology be a science. 
Whether political economy be a science or not, it is not here 
the place to discuss, though it is difficult to see why the dif- 
ference of opinion and contradictory results at which some, 



probability and truth of her statements by the canons of philosophy. Already 
have they shown by the application of this new standard of credibility that 
many of the most familiar passages of ancient history are not merely improbable, 
but impossible ; and instead of being the faithful records of facts, are the fictions 
or amplifications of oral and popular tradition." 

2 See among others some of the letters written by Herder to Goethe, who, it 
is well known, was an ardent mineralogist and geologist to the end of his life. 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 2 0I 

though few, political economists have arrived, should any 
more deprive their study of the character of a science than 
natural philosophy, metaphysics, medicine, or theology; nor 
is it required that any one should believe in political economy. 
The simple question is whether the subjects it considers as 
peculiarly belonging to its forum are susceptible of scientific 
inquiry, and whether they are of sufficient importance to 
require investigations of this kind and to be taught in our 
college. 

I believe it is easy to show that the same relation which 
physiology of the human body bears to anthropology and 
philosophy in general, subsists between political economy and 
the higher branches of politics — or, political economy has 
precisely all the importance with regard to society which the 
material life bears throughout to the moral and intellectual 
world. Political economy might be defined by being the 
science which occupies itself essentially with the material life 
of society — with production, exchange, and consumption ; and 
no one can possibly have thrown a single glance at these 
subjects and deny that they stand in the most intimate 
connection with the moral and intellectual interests of a 
nation. 

If subjects of such universal influence, and so extensively 
affecting the existence of human beings, as labor, wages, cap- 
ital, interests, commerce, loans, banks, etc., are not matter of 
sufficient interest for inquiry, then few things are ; if they do 
not depend upon general causes cognizable by the reason of 
man, then everything around us is chance, and, what is very 
striking, most regular chance, for it would be strange indeed 
that in the United States, for instance, many millions of people 
agree, without exchange of opinions, to pay throughout an 
immense territory about seventy-five cents for a day's work of 
a common laborer, and that in another immense country, at 
the north of Europe, many millions of people receive for the 
same work a few kopecks only, with a uniformity which is 
perfectly perplexing if the same general cause does not pro- 
duce respectively this uniform effect. No believer in chance 



202 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

has ever dreamt that the regularity in form, process of 
growth, and ripening of a species of plant are the results of 
mere chance. Though he might believe that the first cause 
was chance, he would always allow that by the original mix- 
ture of atoms or elements certain laws were produced ac- 
cording to which nature now effects all the processes which 
strike us by their regularity ; but in our own case, when we 
speak of human society, we shall at once change the test, and 
not believe that general, uniform, and regular effects must 
depend upon fixed causes ! 

If these causes can be discovered, and what earthly reason 
is there that they should not? then it is the duty of man to dis- 
cover them. Having found them, he will be able to subject 
them to the same processes of reasoning which he applies to 
every mass of homogeneous facts. Judicious combination and 
cautious induction will enable him to reason from them and 
conclude upon new results. If, however, these inquiries are 
of general interest and importance, they are certainly so to a 
citizen who takes an active and direct part in the making of 
the laws which govern his own society, for they touch upon 
matters which most frequently become the subject of legisla- 
tion. It is necessary then that the youths be instructed in 
this science. 

Political economy has not appeared under the most favorable 
train of circumstances. It is not its lot quietly to investigate 
a given subject, but it has to combat a series of systematized 
prejudices, which have extended their roots far and wide into 
all directions and deep into every class of society, for many 
centuries past — prejudices which are intimately connected with 
the interest of powerful classes. 

Strange that man should have seriously to debate about 
free trade any more than about free breathing, free choice of 
color, of dress, free sleeping, free cookery, and should be 
obliged to listen to arguments which, if true, would also prove 
that the cutting, clipping, and shaving of trees, fashionable in 
the times of Louis XIV., produced most noble, healthful oaks. 
Still, so ancient is the prejudice, that even Strabo mentions 



ON HISTORY AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 



203 



the fact that the Cumseans did not levy any duties on mer- 
chandise, imported into their harbor, as a proof of their 
enormous stupidity. The transition is not easy from so deep- 
rooted a prejudice and whole systems of laws built upon it 
to the natural, simple, and uncorrupted state of things in which 
man is allowed to apply his means as best he thinks, without 
fettering and cramping care from above, which is like the 
caresses of the animal in the fable — stifling. 

Two different directions of scientific inquiry seem to be 
characteristic of our age — minute, extensive, and bold inquiry 
into nature and her laws and life, and equally bold and shrewd 
examination of the elements and laws of human society, and 
all that is connected with its physical or moral welfare. Hence 
we see at once the human mind following two apparently 
opposite directions with equal ardor — history and political 
economy. No age has pursued with so much zeal the col- 
lection of every remnant and vestige which may contribute 
to disclose to us the real state of former generations ; and in no 
age have the principles upon which the success of the human 
species depends been investigated with less reserve. Your 
board of trustees has appointed me for these two important 
sciences, and I feel gratified thus to be placed in a situation 
in which I am able to contribute largely to the diffusion of 
two sciences which are cultivated with such intense activity 
by the age in which my lot has been cast. 



THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE FIRST 
CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 

A LECTURE DELIVERED AT COLUMBIA, SOUTH CAROLINA, 

1845. 



The origin of important and extensive institutions, arts, or 
contrivances, which present themselves to the inquirer dis- 
tinctly defined and in a certain state of completeness, has 
been generally ascribed to acts similarly distinct and definite — 
to conscious invention, deliberate agreement, united wisdom, 
sudden discovery, or direct inspiration. So widely has this 
error prevailed at almost all former periods that it is now but 
slowly yielding to the more substantial knowledge of calmer, 
more comprehensive, and resolute inquiry. 1 

The Greeks, in common with all early nations, referred the 
origin of agriculture to a deity. Either they raised, by mag- 
nifying tradition, the individual who brought to them the art 
of agriculture in a state of considerable perfection, from more 
advanced nations of the East, into a deity; or, when first they 
contemplated the many successive processes which constitute 
agriculture and its extensively beneficial influence, they clearly 



1 We cannot stop to inquire into the cause of this error so extensively diffused, 
but the student will be aided in finding it if he will reflect on another very common 
mistake, akin to the mentioned one. It consists in allowing ourselves to be de- 
ceived by a distinct word for an indistinct idea, as if the latter were as concise 
and definite in our minds as the sound of the first is distinct and definite in our 
ears. Languages in which it is grammatically easy to abstract, such as the Greek 
and German, are peculiarly apt to mislead the philosopher into this very serious 
error. 

205 



206 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

perceived that it could not be the result of invention, even of 
the highest human intellect. They saw, perhaps, too, that the 
supposition of an invention of this sort involves a contradic- 
tion. For, while husbandry was yet to be invented, its mani- 
fold uses, which might induce men to desire the invention, 
must be equally unknown ; and while the blessings which 
agriculture procures for us were yet unrevealed, the long train 
of various processes could not be guessed at, which ultimately 
led to the remote result of garnering up the stores of whole- 
some food for far more numerous people than merely the 
producers of the grain, and of weaning men from the roving 
life of the hunter, uniting them into peaceable and settled 
communities, mutually protecting their property. 

Yet at some time or other agriculture must have taken its 
rise. How, then, could they escape this dilemma ? They 
ascribed the beginning of husbandry to inspiration, or direct 
instruction imparted by a deity. Ceres taught man to entrust 
the seed corn to the mother earth; Dionysus came from India 
to teach the Hellenic tribes the planting and fostering of the 
grape-vine and the preparation of a generous beverage from 
its luscious fruits. The Chinese, in a like manner, ascribe the 
first knowledge of planting tea and rearing silk to divine 
interposition. We, on the contrary, know that to this day 
agriculture is practised among the many tribes of the earth 
in all the stages of gradual perfection, from the Oregon Indians 
— of some of whom a late American missionary reported that 
all their tillage consists in loosening the soil with sticks before 
they sow their maize, and that their wonderment at the sight 
of the first spade was without bounds — to the scientific white 
man who derives benefit from the counsel of a Liebig or 
Boussingault, and invigorates the productive powers of his 
wearied soil with the manure which, thousands of years since, 
was deposited at the opposite end of the earth ; while the 
vivid pictures of the Egyptian temples show us how far the 
ancient dwellers on the Nile had advanced in this art, and how 
far our improvements go beyond theirs. 

Even the origin of so simple an article as bread has been 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 2 oy 

ascribed to a deity — the god Pan. He who reflected on the 
many different processes necessary to produce at last the 
savory, nutritious, and never-cloying substance called bread, 
saw that no man still unacquainted with it could possibly 
make it the problem of invention, finding by meditative in- 
genuity—such as conducted a Watt to the invention of the 
most exquisite contrivances — the chain of all the preparatory 
acts without which bread cannot be produced. Our travellers, 
however, inform us that the art of making bread may yet be 
found in all its different stages of perfection, from the simple 
boiling of maize and partial evaporation of the liquid, even 
without the process of grinding, to the inviting, light, and 
snowy substance which constitutes the delicious accompani- 
ment of a Parisian or Vienna repast. Even the commence- 
ment and very measured progress of the art of grinding the 
cereals is now well understood, since the searching antiquary 
has discovered in the graves of generations long passed by 
the rude stones, unaltered by art, but sufficiently shaped by 
nature to render them not unfit for the crushing of grain. 
These couples of convex and concave stones were with some 
tribes, with others the mortar and piston, the first substitutes 
for man's own grinding teeth. 1 

In a similar manner we find the origin of governments 
spoken of, as if it had ever consisted in a distinct act of es- 
tablishing sovereign polities. Menu, the law-giver of Hindo- 
stan, is a god who, in one of his avatars, visits the regions of 
the Ganges and founds the government, providing it at once 
with a complete code. In Europe, philosophers of the most 
opposite tendencies — Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau, — speak 
of original contracts by which governments were created, or 
almost voted, into existence. Our matured judgment and 
reason, ripened in the social state, which requires government 
to keep it in existence, are thus ascribed to those individuals 
who, nevertheless, are supposed to be destitute of this insti- 



x He who wishes to see all that was known of the science of agriculture and 
the history of bread-making down to the time of Goguet must consult his learned 
work on the Origin of Laws, the Arts, and Sciences. 



208 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

tution. Hugo Grotius speaks of " purposes and ends for 
which property was first established," and many scholars to 
this day tell us of " the invention of language," while others 
assign its origin to inspiration, not seeing that the inspiring 
of an uncivilized tribe with a rich vocabulary would amount 
to a gift which cannot be used and has no meaning, and that 
the inspiration of an abstract grammar is a nonentity as much 
as a system of botany would be which had no reference to 
specific plants. There would remain then but two possible 
cases : either that the first and rudest attempts to designate 
things by certain sounds were inspired from on high, though 
divine wisdom has rendered this unnecessary by the wonder- 
ful organization of man and its adaptation to the wants of his 
intellect as it gradually develops itself; or that, when men had 
arrived at a certain degree of civilization, a more perfect lan- 
guage was suddenly superinduced by inspiration, which we 
know from history not to have been the case, and which, be- 
sides, would be surprisingly anomalous to the whole household 
of the Creator, in which progress, calmness, and an unjarring 
development are among the fundamental principles. An in- 
spiration of this sort, not consisting in the communication of 
a great truth, or in a divine coercion of the human intellect 
to find it, but in the sudden and lavish grant of a body of 
skill and art, would lower man, indeed, into a less complete 
being than the animal, which is guided at least by primary 
impulsive principles. 

Nor is it instinct to which we can ascribe the first beginning 
of those arts, institutions, and contrivances which are of an 
elementary and pervading importance to man, and which have 
this peculiar characteristic, that we never find man, even the 
lowest, destitute of them, though they may be but in their 
incipient stages, and that they rise in importance, develop 
themselves in variety of details, and acquire a more and more 
distinct character of their own as society advances towards 
the highest degrees of civilization, such as property, govern- 
ment, the family, language, exchange, the wants of taste, pro- 
duction and division of labor. These are of a pervading and 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 



209 



permanent character, and unlike those deciduous institutions 
and arts which, though extensively important, are neverthe- 
less transitory and preparatory, as despotism or hieroglyphic 
writing. 

These first constituents of civilization must not be con- 
founded with what may be called the practical characteristics 
of man, though both often coincide, and are always impor- 
tant with reference to one another. Division of labor, for in- 
stance, is found in no inconsiderable degree with the beaver 
or among foxes, which hunt, though separate from each 
other, for a common end and by a regular plan. The practi- 
cal characteristics of man — that is, those acts and manifesta- 
tions of his inward state without which we never find man, 
even the lowest, and with which we never find the animal, 
even the highest — are the following : 

1. Language, that is, the conscious conveyance of ideas to 
others by articulate sounds, and not mere communion by im- 
pulsive utterances; 2. Individual Property and consequent 
mutual acknowledgment of rights ; x 3. Exchange, which is 
the necessary effect of the former combined with man's judg- 
ment; 4. Sexual Shame; 5. The Family, Authority, Govern- 
ment, or Superiors and Inferiors, independent upon physical 
force or instinct ; 6. Religion, that is, some fear at least of 
superior and invisible powers, and a desire of propitiating 
them ; 7. Taste or the Love of the Beautiful, though it mani- 
fest itself only in the rudest tattooing, painting, or other at- 
tempts at ornament, and Rhythm in language, step, or tune, 
which is connected with man's universal love of symmetry ; 
8. Punishment, or the intentional infliction of some sufferance 
for some committed wrong, which proves the existence of 
conscience; that is, a consciousness that there are such things 
as right and wrong acts, and also of the universal intuitive 
conviction that it exists alike in all men. In other words, 



x It is a remarkable and very instructive fact that with all nations the vengeance 
of blood or punishment of murder remains a private affair long after judges have 
been appointed to protect property. It was so with the Greeks, with the early 
Teutonic tribes, etc. 
Vol. I. — 14 



210 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

man is always, and the animal never, an ethical, religious, 
jural, speaking, aesthetical, and exchanging being. 

When I say that these are the practical characteristics of 
man, I must, of course, be understood to mean man in the 
enjoyment of his entire humanity; in possession of a sound 
mind and all his senses, placed in that society which he cannot 
resist forming naturally around him. I should be strangely 
misunderstood were I supposed to mean by these character- 
istics anything founded upon ready-made, innate ideas. I 
have elsewhere expressed myself at large on this subject. 1 

I am well aware that many may entertain a doubt upon the 
correctness of my enumerating sexual shame as one of the 
infallible characteristics of man. It is impossible in a lecture 
to enter into the details of this subject. I can only state my 
belief that all objections can be fully answered and that my 
statement appears to me strictly philosophical and correct. 2 

1 In my Political Ethics. 

2 When in the description of my journey through Greece I was desirous of 
mentioning an important, although indelicate, fact, my friend and guide, Mr. 
Niebuhr, advised me to state it in a Latin note. I may be permitted to resort 
here to the same expedient, obliged as I am to touch upon details of an offensive 
character in meeting objections against my position. 

Fuerunt in Saxonica Angliae aetate, nee valde remoto tempore in Polynesiae 
insulis sodalitia mulierum ac virorum, qui ad appetitum venereum inter se ex- 
plendum conveniebant. Constat inter omnes de eo quod Cato Censor detexit 
Bacchanalico sodalitio, et de nobilium virorum mulierumque, Carolo II. rege, 
positis vestibus saltantium coetibus, quorum apud Pepys mentio fit. Bajaderas 
templis adjunctas esse non ignoramus, et Herodotus in piis illis stupris enarran- 
dis multus est, quae apud nonnullos veterum populorum in more fuerint neque a 
Strabone et S. Augustino (Civit. Dei I, iv. c. io) silentio praetereuntur. Ja- 
cobus Cook, nautarum celeberrimus, caeremonias describit, quas in regiae sponsae 
primo ac publico cum viro concubitu spectavit; nee alia ejusdem generis exem- 
pla nos deficiunt. Quae tamen exempla omni unquam mutuo pudore utriusque 
sexus personas vacasse non ostendunt ; nam, sodalitiorum istorum quaelibet 
fuerit infamia, ut tenebras certe quaererent, conscientia agebantur ac si quando 
simili modo a recta ratione ut supra vidimus homines aberraverunt pia tunc su- 
perstitione et propitiandi numinis religione erant abducti. Praeter caetera autem 
incestus crimen, quod inter omnes omnium aetatum homines genitorum certe cum 
genitis conjugio infligitur, hoc loco commemorandum esse videtur; brutum enim 
quominus id, quod hominibus incestum est, impune perpetret, ne instinctu qui- 
dem naturae prohibetur. Est quidem, etiam, inter natos ac parentes, commis- 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 2 II 

As to religion, I own that I am acquainted with a passage in 
Mr. Moffat's Missionary Labors and Scenes in the South of 
Africa, 1 in which he states that he found among the Bechuana 
people no belief in a deity, however crude, or in some sort of 
existence after death. They do not even adore a fetish. I 
know of no other instance in a whole tribe of a total absence 
of fear of some superior being, which seems indeed long to 
precede man's love of a deity, as in the case of the New Zea- 
landers. Injury seems to present itself to the mind more 
concentratedly than blessing. The lightning which shivers 
the tree is perceived by every one as an individual striking 
phenomenon, but it requires the power of abstraction to 
gather the blessings of the vernal sun into one idea of divine 
benevolence. 

This single fact, however, apparently constituting an excep- 
tion, requires confirmation. If it really should be found as 
Mr. Moffat has stated it, and that there are no violent extra- 
neous causes at work, we may be forced to admit that these 
degraded beings, who have not even attained to the idea of 
names for individuals among them, form a link between man 
and the brute, and would then be obliged somewhat to restrict 
this characteristic of religion. 

On the other hand, it must be admitted as a striking fact 
that those blind deaf-mutes, or, as you will permit me at once 
to call them for convenience' sake, those blind-surds, who, of 
late, have attracted so much and just attention — Laura Bridg- 
man and Oliver Caswell at Boston, Julia Brace in Connecticut, 
Anna Temmermans at Bruges, James Mitchell at Nairn, in 
Scotland, and many others 2 — that all these unfortunate beings 
who, from earliest infancy, were enveloped in lasting darkness 



sum incesti crimen, sed panter est furtum, et multum abest ut suum cuique deberi 
furem ignorare judicaveris. 

1 London, 1842. 

2 Abbe Carton gives an account of many blind-surds in Europe in his work on 
Anna Temmermans, Ghent, 1843, and Dr. Howe, of Boston, mentions others in 
his last Report on the Perkins Institution for the Blind. This Report of Dr. 
Howe's is of the highest interest, as indeed all his previous ones were. 



212 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

and stillness, shut out from all communion with the world, 
show the practical characteristics which I have enumerated/ 
so far as their privation of the senses admits of them. Every 
blind-surd shows a decided consciousness of Mine and Thine, 
and a consequent perception of the value of exchange. They 
deeply blush if detected in filching. All show a decided sense 
of decorum; a consciousness of right and wrong, and resent- 
ment at injustice; all willingly acknowledge superiors, even 
among themselves, which latter is at least the case in the only 
instance in which, to my knowledge, two blind-surds have 
been brought in contact, namely, Laura Bridgman and Oliver 
Caswell. All have shown the internal necessity of language, 
which promptly manifested itself so soon as ingenuity and 
wisdom had contrived the means of breaking through the 
thick walls which kept their souls immured and of establish- 
ing a bridge of communion with the outer world. They seem 
to have no conception whatever of rhythm, because they are 
deprived of hearing. The same may be observed with deaf- 
mutes. 1 The blind-surds, especially the female, show a de- 
cided desire of adornment, and Laura, at least, elevated her- 
self to the idea of a superior being by perceiving the rain, 
learning that it was a great benefit, and finding, upon inquiry, 
that no fellow-mortal of hers can produce it. 

I shall revert to the blind-surds when treating of language, 
and now return to the subject more immediately in hand. 
We were speaking of instinct as being insufficient to account 
for the origin of the constituents of civilization. 

Instinct is a primary and irresistible impulse towards the 
obtaining of a remote and important object unknown to the 
individual — an impulse uncontrolled by it, but controlling it. 
And the law of this impulse is, that its action is the intenser, 



1 Deaf-mutes show an almost universal disregard of poetry, because neither 
rhythm, harmony, nor rhyme exists for them. But I have known a deaf-mute, 
who was very fond of dancing, keeping admirable time. He perceived the 
rhythm of music through his sense of touch by the concussion of the air, and 
possibly the sense of rhythm might be awakened in a similar manner even in 
the blind-surds by dint of long perseverance. 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 213 

more unfailing and direct, the more limited the sphere of 
action, circumscribed the life, and confined the intellect of the 
individual are. Instinct and the destiny of the being stand in 
an inverse ratio, and as man's destiny is the highest, amplest, 
and most manifold, so are his instincts the most limited. In- 
deed they are almost confined to his earliest infancy, when he 
resembles the brute creation most. 

It will hardly be necessary to mention Chance as the pos- 
sible cause which gives birth to the elements of civilization. 
Those who believe that mankind and their progressive civili- 
zation owe their existence to a Maker, and have been created 
for grave and weighty purposes, cannot resort to chance in 
order to explain their most important phases and most essen- 
tial developments. Nor can he that denies these solemn pur- 
poses; because the universality of the phenomena wholly 
excludes this, the sorriest of all explanations, which indeed 
betrays a great want of reflection. 

If then neither instinct, nor conscious action, nor inspira- 
tion induce man to enter upon the career of civilization, which 
is his destiny and essentially natural state, it must have re- 
mained very doubtful whether those constituent elements 
would be found out or not, did there not exist a principle 
which seems to lie at the foundation of all human history and 
upon which all advancement of our species appears to depend, 
namely, that the first starting in the different branches neces- 
sary for civilization is not left to the option of man, but closely 
connected with the material world, and is an inevitable result 
of the relations in which man, with his peculiar organization 
and his expansive intellect, is placed to the material world 
around him. 

This is the law which we observe with all those nations 
which hitherto seem to have been destined for civilization. If 
we are asked why, then, did the same principles not produce 
similar results with many tribes which to this day have re- 
mained in a barbarous state, and have no interest for the his- 
torian, however attractive they may be to the naturalist, all we 
can answer is, that the law which has been stated is the one 



214 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



which can be clearly discerned with the tribes that rise into 
civilization ; but why, if the true destiny of man is civilization, 
so many tribes, showing indeed its rudiments, pass away long 
before they have developed them, can no more be explained 
by man here beneath than why annually innumerable peach 
blossoms should drop ere they swell into fruits, although it 
will not be denied that the evident destiny of the blossom is 
to change into a peach ; or why there should be animals with 
rudiments of organs, which are fully developed and of the 
highest use only with species standing above them in the 
great scale, but to themselves wholly useless. Indeed the 
question can be applied to the risen tribes, so to call them ; 
for, if civilization, if pure religion, if peace and good-will, are 
the destiny of man, why do so many individuals pass away 
before their own tribe attained to them ? Why, we may pro- 
ceed, is man a social being constantly acting upon and acted 
upon by others ? How is his individual responsibility and 
individual value, which cannot be denied unless we deny 
humanity altogether, reconcilable with this equally undeniable 
law of sociality ? These are God's own truths; mortal eye 
can never penetrate the mystery. Yet one phenomenon may 
be mentioned as already revealed by history with reference to 
the destiny of mankind for civilization and its growing expan- 
sion. It is this: that while in antiquity we find a strict succes- 
sion of one civilized nation to another, the succeeding one 
improving on the antecedent, and predominating for a time 
over the others — a monarchical principle, as it were, in the 
line of succession — we find in modern times rather a com- 
monwealth of civilized nations. In antiquity history coursed 
in the narrow channel of single countries ; in modern times 
history resembles our own broad ocean where the flags of 
many nations meet. It is Christianity and the broad universal 
character of modern knowledge, closely connected with Chris- 
tianity, which have rendered possible this striking phenomenon. 
With the ancients everything was strictly national ; religion, 
polity, knowledge, literature, art, acknowledgment of right, all 
were local ; with us, the different colors on the map do not 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION 2 l$ 

designate different districts of religion, knowledge, art, and 
customs. There are wires of mental telegraphs which cross 
all those red and blue and yellow lines. And who will say 
that the time cannot arrive when that broad sea of history, as 
we just called it, this commonwealth of active and polished 
nations, shall extend over the face of our planet ? 

Let us now proceed to give the necessary illustrations of 
the law that the necessity of starting in the elements of civili- 
zation arises out of the relation in which man is placed to the 
material world. 

Population cannot increase, nor civilization expand, without 
exchange, commerce, and an ultimate peaceful international 
communion. Consequently we find this law, of the utmost 
simplicity : that while, on the one hand, those wants of neces- 
sity as well as taste which daily recur are manifold in each 
individual and very uniform all over the globe, the capacity, 
on the other hand, of satisfying these wants, inherent in the 
various regions of the earth, is varied in the highest degree. 

The palates of all men are pleasantly affected by the taste 
of sweetness ; so much so, that in most developed idioms the 
word sweet is used no longer in a tropical sense — at least it 
must be called a very faded trope — for that which charms by 
gentleness, purity, loveliness, and is dear to our hearts. We 
say sweet child, a sweet song, sweet temper, sweet wife, and 
even sweet Saviour. Everywhere do these expressions, de- 
rived from sensual affection, go directly to the souls of all 
men in all climes and of all ages, because the palates of all 
delight in a properly tempered degree of sweetness. Yet the 
rays of the sun fall upon few countries only in that angle 
which is necessary for the growth of the cane that yields the 
most desired among the saccharine substances. All men 
relish sugar; few countries grow it. A deep blue color has 
ever pleased the eyes of all men, their organs of sight being 
of uniform structure; but indigo, furnishing the richest dye 
of this favorite color, grows in very limited districts only. All 
men value the many pleasant, pliant, and easily dyed tissues 
of wool. Our Indian covets a blanket, and Homer delights 



2i6 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

in singing again and again the beauty of the soft purple carpet 
and delicate woollen cover worthy the acceptance of a king ; 
yet the sheep which furnishes the fine and limber thread is 
not reared in all regions. Adorning silk is valued in the 
Orient as by the Western race, because its tempered gloss 
and ready reception of the richest colors and of every tint of 
delicate or gorgeous dye are agreeable to all eyes, and because 
the minds of all men are so constituted that so soon as the 
wants of necessity are satisfied they are happily followed by 
the wants of taste, the desire of ornate comfort, and the ever 
active yearning to rise in condition and make our mode of 
existence agree with it. Yet, universal though the consump- 
tion of silk stuffs be, its production is confined to very few 
parts of the globe. Cotton has become a blessing to man- 
kind, promoting health, decency, and respectability where 
squalid want, disease, vice, and tattered disregard of self pre- 
vailed with millions upon millions. In Asia, Africa, Europe, 
and America, the rich and the poor, young and old, the 
colored and the white stand in need of cotton, while the coun- 
tries producing this commodity can be easily numbered. The 
same may be said of all farinaceous substances, wheat, rye, 
maize, rice ; of wine and oil, of iron and copper, leather, meat, 
and fish. It is the all-embracing law of mutual dependence 
operating in the narrowest as well as the widest circles, be- 
tween individuals and nations, near and afar. It is the great 
law of territorial division of labor and consequent union of 
men. The animal is doomed to labor in its confined sphere, 
under individual independence and isolating self-sufficiency ; 
man alone was blessed with the injunction of mutual depend- 
ence, a constituent of love and forbearance. 

If in an opposite manner men had been created with wants 
widely differing in the individuals, and the material world 
been so constituted that every individual could at once have 
found the means of satisfying these desires close at hand — a 
plan which in all probability human wisdom would have con- 
ceived of — the earth would now be dotted with independent, 
insulated, grovelling, selfish and self-satisfied clusters of men, 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 217 

still more abased than the present tribes of hunters ; a sort of 
population which by no art or invention of its own could ever 
have risen above its mean condition. 

Man is a political being. He cannot find his proper destiny 
without the state. It was, therefore, not left to his option to 
unite into a government, nor was he driven by instinct to its 
formation, as the bee congregates into a social life. God 
created man the only mammal which stands in need of parental 
protection for a long series of years after the period of lacta- 
tion, and whose desires and inclinations, arising out of the 
difference of sexes, which becomes more marked as the ani- 
mal stands higher in the scale, are not limited to a season, as 
is the case with the brute. And as no original and inherent 
principle in our nature is either mischievous or useless in 
itself, but given, along with regulating and bridling reason, for 
the wisest purposes, so it is in this case. 

So soon as the brute parent ceases to furnish" milk to the 
young one, it shifts for itself. The child of man alone re- 
quires support and protection up to its seventeenth year or 
later, while in the mean time other children are born, and time 
is given to their intellects and affections to expand and grow 
in strength, and thus attachment, gratitude, respect, obedience, 
and mutual support to spring up. The institution of the 
family becomes inevitable. Men are unfailingly, though pro- 
gressively, led into the formation of it, and so soon as formed, 
the institution possesses and forever retains an expansive 
character. For, the family gains in importance as the school 
of mental, moral, religious, and political culture of the young 
as well as the old, as civilization advances. " Children do not 
only stand in need of parents ; we parents stand as much in 
need of children." 1 Out of the family arises the patriarchal 
state, or, rather, it is the patriarchal state, from which the other 
forms of government progressively proceed. Authority, lan- 
guage, property, and the important consciousness that men do 
not only form a society as to the present time, but also and 



1 Schleiermacher in his speech at the grave of his son. 



2i8 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

necessarily a continuum, and not an accidental aggregate of 
" huddled units," all these find their incipient stages in the 
family. 

If we suppose that man had been organized like the brute, 
which is not as helplessly born as he is, and becomes far 
sooner independent, a human family would be as unknown as 
a family of brutes. Yet at a first superficial glance the animal 
might appear the more favored of the two, which may have 
been one of the reasons that have led so many tribes to the 
worship of animals. 

Individual property is one of the primary constituents of 
civilization, and man could never have arrived at a full and 
clear perception of individual property without production 
For he is conscious that what he produces is his own, and 
that every one knows it of his own production as he does ; 
and he is conscious, too, that he cannot produce without pre- 
vious appropriation. But production and appropriation are 
no art or idea voluntarily invented by him. He was coerced 
into them by the unprotected state in which he is placed in 
the world. Unclad by any fur, unprovided with talon or pro- 
truding mouth, unwinged, and unfit to pursue the swift animal 
or to climb after the nimble beast, with a keen appetite and a 
relish for a great variety of food, with young ones for years 
dependent upon him, and a nature around him which in its 
most bountiful state affords but scanty and precarious food to 
the merely gathering man, he was obliged to entrap or shoot 
the animal, that is, to appropriate by skill, which is produc- 
tion, and gradually to produce still more exclusively, intensely, 
and widely. He thus came to the clear perception of property 
which exists long before those more stable governments which 
we are accustomed to call states in particular, or which exists 
from the first beginning. Along with the earliest forms of 
government, man entered upon the great career of industry, 
agriculture, and exchange. 

We may possibly imagine man, in a very low state, to grope 
his way with a system of signs not consisting in sounds. But 
such a language, if we can call it thus, must in its nature have 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 219 

remained very confined and confining. It could never have 
become the ready mould of his thoughts, the copious means 
of varied intercourse, the binding tie of society, the convey- 
ance of thoughts, feelings, and experiences to distant gener- 
ations, and could have never expanded into a literature, 
another of the indispensable foundations of a fairly developed 
civilization. Was then this phonetic language left to his in- 
vention ? He might have found other signs at the time more 
convenient, as even now some persons do for certain purposes, 
and those signs might have satisfied his early wants, and fore- 
stalled the origination of a phonetic idiom. The necessary 
phonetic language, however — that is, communion by oral 
sounds — was not left to man's option or precarious ingenuity. 
He was constituted in a manner which obliged him to make 
use of sounds as the chief signs of communion. Man has 
thoughts to communicate, and is so essentially a social being 
that communion of itself is pleasant to him ; nor can he avoid 
involuntarily to show, by various sounds, emotions which may 
deeply affect him at the time. Every excitement causes in him, 
as in all other animals, a quicker respiration or an oppression 
of the chest which seeks vent through exhalation or inhaling ; 
but his emotions are far more varied than those of the animal, 
and the organs through which they chiefly seek vent, the 
throat and mouth, are far more pliable and admit of a much 
greater variety of sounds, so that his more numerous passions 
and affections, especially with the savage, make themselves 
known with greater accuracy and by a greater variety of oral 
sounds. He breathes spite, pride, longing, fear, wrath, wonder, 
pity, courage, regret, attention, pain, encouragement, resolu- 
tion, confidence, through his mouth and nostrils — sounds which 
are readily understood by others, because they belong to all, 
and gradually condense and shape themselves into distinct or 
articulate sounds, that is, words — a process similar to that by 
which the primitive utterances of pain, Ah ! Eh ! were 
gradually cast into the articulate sounds Helas ! and Alas ! 
The early Asiatic languages prove this, as Herder has shown 
long ago. Man's pliable and docile organs furnish him in the 



220 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

mean time with ready means to imitate the phenomena of 
sounds around him, and he wishes to imitate them because 
he has the desire and feels the necessity of communication. 
It is thought, undoubtedly, from which first of all language 
proceeds, that is, the willed conveyance of ideas by signs. He 
can imitate, or designate by partial imitation, other things 
than sounds, but none so readily, nor does probably any 
phenomenon strike the mind of the untutored savage so power- 
fully as sound. It is the most concentrated characteristic of 
things. The eye perceives things in their totality, and for 
that very reason its perceptions are unpronounceable. Take 
a cataract. We perceive a vast phenomenon of substance, 
color, motion, and constant change at one and the same instant, 
while the ear carries the single impression of the rumbling 
roar of tumbling waters to the mind. The eye perceives the 
totality of an animal — form, color, movement — at once; the 
ear takes in the single yet striking characteristic of bleating, 
lowing, or cooing. This strikes separately, and can be imi- 
tated. Color, time, weight, surface, taste, scent, and substance 
cannot be imitated at all ; form and motion but partially ; 
sound, however, completely. We have thus the second ele- 
ment of phonetic language, and see that man could not other- 
wise but resort to sounds produced by the mouth for com- 
municating his thoughts in the far greater number of cases, 
though he undoubtedly assisted his first phonetic attempts by 
signs appealing to the eyes. These imitative sounds once 
existing, became likewise gradually more and more defined, 
or articulate words, and a body of phonetic signs once exist- 
ing, it soon became the nucleus for others, and, by composition, 
for inflections, while in the mean time, as man's mind found 
or suspected affinities in things or feelings, his organs became 
more skilful. The family alone, into which man is forced, 
must have produced abundant opportunities for phonetic signs 
of affection, passion, and necessity. 

So very natural, indeed, is the breathing out of thoughts or 
a phonetic language to man, that I found Laura Bridgman 
the blind-surd, in imparting to whom a complete finger- 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 2 2I 

writing and a general education Dr. Howe, of Boston, has so 
eminently succeeded, to possess between thirty and forty 
" noises" for the various persons of her acquaintance. She 
produces them often for herself, and of course without know- 
ing their effect. When asked, on such occasions, why she made 
the " noise" for such or such a person, she will answer that she 
happened to think of that particular individual. So, when she 
perceives with her keen remaining sense, by the peculiar jar 
of the floor, who has entered her room, she quickly exhales 
the " noise" for that person, merely because that individual 
forms at the time her thought, and thought seeks vent. For 
other things she has no " noises," though she utters many 
emotions. These sounds, however, have been carefully re- 
pressed by telling her that they are painfully disagreeable to 
others. The reason why Laura has distinct noises for persons 
only is, no doubt, because she, in common with us, thinks in 
words ever since she has been successfully educated; with 
this difference, that we think in phonetic or oral words, but 
she in digital words, 1 and, as a deaf-mute, probably thinks in 
written words. Persons have, indeed, their names, which 
Laura knows perfectly well, but their rare occurrence may be 
the reason why, with regard to them, the primitive breathing 
shows itself as a means of designation or involuntarily. Some 
of these sounds are inarticulate, but others not so ; for instance, 
Fee-fee, Puh-puh, Lull; others consist in a mere breathing 
with a slight vowel admixture, while others again are but the 
prolonged exhalation of liquids. I could not discover in these 
sounds any intended or conscious expression of the individu- 
ality which Laura may ascribe to the respective persons. 2 

When we contemplate a perfect language, such as the Greek 
or Sanscrit, or the surprising character of the holophrastic 



1 Whenever she thinks in a lively manner for herself, and even in her dreams, 
she writes her thoughts with one hand in the other, as many of us move the lips 
without speaking, or as we speak in our dreams. 

2 I found Laura indicating her inner state also by other sounds — e.g., the shaking 
of the head for negation, nodding for affirmation, elevating her hands in wonder, 
expressing surprise by an oral sound such as we produce on similar occasions. 



222 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

idioms of our Indians, we are lost indeed in amazement, and 
cannot conceive how man, unaided by superior intellect, should 
ever have invented so stupendous a scheme. Man was not, 
as we have seen, unaided. Far from it ; he was coerced into 
the beginning, and as to the systematic development, we 
must not forget that God gave man reflection and thought, 
which, through uncounted millenniums, moulded sounds into 
words, and, by the most imperceptible processes, out of words 
inflections, that many of the processes are daily yet going on 
around us, and that, indeed, but few idioms do attain to a high 
degree of excellence. In almost all languages, that which we 
cannot say amounts to more than what we can say, and lan- 
guages such as the Chinese show us how entire idioms can 
consist of sounds of one kind only, which are neither verb nor 
noun, incapable of any inflection, and must be understood as 
we understand the first prattling of our infants, by the juxta- 
position of those elementary utterances. Language affords 
no greater subject for surprise than the art of alphabetic 
writing — that is, writing by characters which have reference 
to the sounds of words and not to the idea itself, as our char- 
acters for numbers do, and which, therefore, may correctly be 
read by the most different nations. Who could have contrived 
so stupendous a scheme or conceived so remarkable a thought 
as to invent visible characters for audible signs of ideas? This 
art was, therefore, likewise ascribed by the ancients to divine 
origin, but we, since Champollion has deciphered the hiero- 
glyphics, have all the stages of the art of writing before us, 
from the first pictorial, the direct symbolic, and faded sym- 
bolic or conventional hieroglyphic, the phonetic hieroglyphic 
up to the alphabetic phonetic signs. We see on the walls of 
the Egyptian temples that the transition from ideographic 
signs to phonetic characters was gradual and natural, although 
the whole contrivance of alphabetic writing remains one of the 
most remarkable discoveries, quite as great, if not greater, than 
the art of printing. 1 



1 The first phonetic signs which the Egyptians used were images of those 
things whose names began with the letter which it was desirable to represent. 



THE FIRST CONSTITUENTS OF CIVILIZATION. 223 

But is language a more wonderful contrivance than a 
highly-developed government, a British polity with its com- 
mon law and parliament and county administration, navy, 
colonies, and sub-empires ? We know, nevertheless, that these 
have not been established by divine inspiration. 

When once the Creator has coerced man into the path of 
progress He has sufficiently provided his creature with means 
to pursue it, and no subsidiary inspiration is granted. Man is 
fretful, but God is calm. When He created the seas and the 
dry land and placed man, endowed with reason and a perfect 
organization, upon it, He knew that in due time man would 
contrive the plough and launch his ships. 

We have thus seen that the Supreme Ruler has not laid out 
so deficient a plan of civilization that continued inspiration be- 
came necessary, nor that we must claim for human wit what 
belongs to divine wisdom, 1 and that in these, as in all other 
cases of divine government into which an insight is vouch- 
safed us, we find that the Creator effects mighty ends by prin- 
ciples and laws of sublime simplicity, working unfailingly in 
grandeur and calmness. 



They could therefore designate the same sound in many different ways. Adopt- 
ing the same method for our tongue, we might indicate the single sound L by 
sketching the image of a lamb, lamp, leaf, last, lion, ladder, laurel, etc. ; because 
all begin with the liquid L. Gradually the easiest among these sketches would 
be exclusively used, and its shape would soon be reduced to such simplicity that 
the few remaining strokes would bear little resemblance to the original, although 
the name of the letter remained the same with the thing which they first desig- 
nated. The names of the characters of the Hebrew alphabet indicate things, 
such as hand, etc. 

1 Claim for human wit what belongs to divine wisdom. I have an impression 
that this sentence is not my own ; but I am unable to remember where I have 
met with it or what passage may have suggested it to my mind. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 1 



Young Gentlemen, — The very word by which I have the 
pleasure of addressing you will form the subject of the 
address which, in the spirit of great kindness, you have called 
upon me, unknown to you as I am, to deliver on this festive 
day. I tender you my cordial thanks for this proof of your 
regard; but, in doing so, I must remind you that I find 
difficulties of no common character surrounding me at this 
moment. My foot treads for the first time the soil of your 
sylvian state ; I am unacquainted with what may be peculiar 
to your society, or characteristic of your institution. I thus 
may stand in danger of losing myself with you in unprofit- 
able generalities. Let me beg you, therefore, to bear with 
me, should you consider my subject not sufficiently char- 
acteristic for this particular occasion, for which I have 
selected the Character of the Gentleman. It appeared to me 
that an inquiry into the proposition, What is the true char- 
acter of the gentleman, and what rules of action do we derive 
from the results of this inquiry, might be made useful and 
instructive to young men who, in receiving a liberal education, 
are preparing themselves for the most important walks o( 
practical life, or the spheres of literature, eloquence, and 
public action. 

x The following paper was originally an address delivered before the students 
of Miami University in Ohio, on commencement day, in 1846. It was printed 
and widely distributed at that time. A second edition appeared in 1847, an d a 
third, in the form of a volume in i8mo, was published in 1863. There was 
also an English edition, with a preface by E. B. Shuldham, printed in 1862. 
In its final form the address is much enlarged, and many notes are added, 
which, the author remarks, " may appear as anachronisms in a discourse delivered 
as long ago as in the year 1846." — (G.) 

Vol. I.— 15 225 



226 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Young as you are, you must have observed that the term 
gentleman is used in common intercourse indeed almost un- 
meaningly, or as a term merely indicating that we do not 
mean the opposite ; but that the word has also come to desig- 
nate, in a direct and positive manner, a character of high and 
even lofty attributes, and, at the same time, is employed on 
occasions apparently much differing in their nature. It is 
made use of as an incentive in education at home, and in 
training at school for those who are yet sporting through the 
age of boyhood. Every one of us has felt his boyish heart 
glow more warmly when our parent or teacher said, with 
smiling approval, " You are a little gentleman ;" and Dr. 
Thomas Arnold, the solid scholar, the loving Christian, de- 
voted friend of liberty, and great school-master, pronounced 
it his highest aim to make the boys entrusted to his care feel 
like Christian gentlemen. An English writer, in order to 
express most strongly his admiration of Plato's works, says 
that they are pervaded by a spirit, almost, of a Christian 
gentleman; 1 an officer of the army or navy may be tried for 
" conduct unbecoming a gentleman" — a charge ruinous to his 
career, if the court pronounces him guilty ; " on the word of 
a gentleman" is considered among men of character equiva- 
lent to a solemn asseveration, and the charge " he is no gen- 
tleman," as one of the most degrading that can be brought 
against a man of education. You would understand me at 
once as being desirous of conveying a grave idea, were I to 
say that Socrates, though condemned by vulgar envy, died 
passionless, a philosopher and a gentleman, or that Charles I., 
of England, after having long prevaricated, and occasionally 
stooped to unworthy practices, demeaned himself, during his 
trial and on the scaffold, like a gentleman. 

Erskine, the great advocate, said, in one of his pleadings, 
" He is an English gentleman, the best thing a man can be;" 



1 There is a work, published some years ago, which, nevertheless, I have not 
yet met with : 

The Christian Gentleman's Daily Walk. By Sir Archibald Edmonstone, 
Bart. Third edition, rearranged and enlarged. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 227 

and Townsend, in his History of the House of Commons, 
calls it, The society of the first gentlemen in the world. 

When Nicholas, the Emperor of Russia, conversing with 
the English ambassador, Sir Hamilton Seymour, on the state 
of Turkey, was desirous of impressing the latter that he was 
speaking with perfect truth, he said, " Now I desire to speak 
to you as a friend and as a gentleman." 1 The emperor was 
speaking in French ; yet he used the English term " gentle- 
man." 

I give in conclusion of these instances Judge Talfourd's 
words, which he uttered on the bench, in a case tried at the 
Bristol assizes, shortly before his sudden death. The evidence 
proved that the defendant, while in the theatre, had said to 
the plaintiff, " Do not speak to me : I am a gentleman, and 
you are a tradesman." — " Gentleman," said the learned judge, 
" is a term which does not apply to any station. The man of 
rank who deports himself with dignity and candor, and the 
tradesman who discharges the duties of life with honor and 
integrity, are alike entitled to it ; nay, the humblest artisan, 
who fulfils the obligations cast upon him with virtue and with 
honor, is more entitled to the name of gentleman than the 
man who could indulge in offensive and ribald remarks, how- 
ever big his station." 2 

1 Sir H. Seymour's despatch of January 22, 1853. 

2 Different meanings are given to the word, as appears from the following : 
The Englishman (Indian paper) of the 28th June, 1850, gave the following: 

We have read several very characteristic letters, which we regret we are not per- 
mitted to publish ; but one has just been handed to us for that purpose, and we 
accordingly subjoin it. The affair, as related to us, is as follows: A Mr. Morgan, 
employed in a public office, in sending a small sum due to Mr. Rowe, addressed 
him as Sergeant Rowe. The sergeant's better half was incensed at this, he being 
a tailor by trade, and employed in the clothing department, and probably expected 
to be addressed as esquire. She wrote an angry letter to the offender, who, con- 
sidering the sergeant implicated, complained to the commanding officer of the 
station, and, not obtaining the redress he expected, forwarded his complaint to 
the commander-in-chief, from whom he received the following reply, which we 
think would have been recognized without the signature : 

Camp, April 18, 1850. 
Sir : — I have received your complaint, and your very sensible remarks on 
Mrs. Sergeant Rowe's letter. There is, as you say, nothing disgraceful in being 



228 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

We naturally ask, then, what is the meaning of this com- 
prehensive term, and is there anything substantial in the 

a sergeant, any more than in being a tailor, which, by your letter, Sergeant Rowe 
appears to be. My opinion is that he who wears a uniform is of higher rank 
than he who makes it. and the sergeant is, in my mind, much the highest in 
rank of the two ! All soldiers are gentlemen, and tailors are only tailors ! But 
it seems that Mrs. Rowe thinks otherwise, and prefers being a tailor's wife to 
being an officer's wife. Now, in my opinion, a lady has a right to hold her own 
opinion on these matters, and I am unable to give you any redress, because my 
commission as commander-in-chief gives me no power to make ladies apologize 
for bekig saucy, which is an unfortunate habit that they fail into at times, and 
more especially those who are good-looking, which I suppose Mrs. Sergeant 
Rowe happens to be. As to the sergeant having written the letter, that is neither 
here nor there. Some husbands cannot well help doing as they are ordered, and 
he may be innocent of malice. The only thing that I can do is to advise you to 
apply to your superior, the collector and magistrate of Furruckabad, who will 
represent the insult which has been put upon you by Mr. Sergeant Rowe (as you 
state), and, if possible, Major Tucker will endeavor to persuade the lady to 
apologize for calling you an ass. More than giving you this advice I cannot do. 

C. J. Napier, Commander-in-Chief. 

But against this wayward letter I must be permitted to quote a passage of the 
Epilogue to Dr. Birch and his Young Friends, a poem published in England in 
the year 1848- ' 

" Come wealth or want, come good or ill, 
Let young and old accept their part, 
And bow before the awful will, 

And bear it with an honest heart. 
Who misses or who wins the prize ? 

Go, lose or conquer as you can : 
But if you fail, or if you rise, 
Be each, pray God, a gentleman. 

" A gentleman, or old or young ! 

(Bear kindly with my humble lays) — 
The sacred chorus first was sung 

Upon the first of Christmas days : 
The shepherds heard it overhead, 

The joyful angels raised it then — 
Glory to heaven on high, it said, 

And peace on earth to gentle men." 

This punning on "gentle" in the word gentleman occurs very frequently in 
English literature. Gentle, as in gentlefolk and gentleman, meant originally 
belonging to a gens, just as in modern times the expression " of family" is used. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



229 



character which it designates, or is it an idol, arbitrarily set up 
by fickle fashion beside morality, perhaps above religion ? Has 
it become a caricature, however innocent at first, or ought it 
to be well known and attentively cultivated ? 

I must not detain you with the well-known etymologies of 
the word, given among others by Gibbon, nor with its meaning 
in the English law. Blackstone's Commentaries, or any 
proper book of reference, will speedily satisfy the curious on 
this point. 

Let us rather endeavor to ascertain what is meant at present 
by those who choose their words with care and knowledge, 
when they use the term gentleman in its highest acceptation. 
You may see it frequently stated that gentleman means 
gentle man, which is neither etymologically correct, nor true 
as to its present peculiar meaning. Gentleness is indeed an 
element of the true gentleman, as we shall amply see ; but it 
alone does not constitute the gentleman. If it did, we should 
not stand in need of the word. The word gentleman was 
formed before gentle came to signify kindliness of soul ; but 
it is nevertheless instructive to trace all the meanings now 
assigned to the words derived from the Latin gens, through 
their different changes. Let me advise you to reflect on the 
meaning of Gentle, and of the different meanings of the cor- 
responding words in other languages, and their gradual growth 
out of that first and Roman root Gens. 

I believe the word gentleman signifies that character which 
is distinguished by strict honor, 1 self-possession, forbearance, 



It is this meaning that gave so cherished a meaning to the word gentleman in 
the Middle Ages. Many of my readers may not be acquainted with that remark- 
able passage in Juliana Barnes's book on Armory, which Dr. Allibone has given 
in his Critical Dictionary of English Literature. Juliana Berners or Barnes 
was a prioress towards the end of the fourteenth century, distinguished for beauty 
and learning. Her mentioned work begins with the following piece of heraldry: 
" Of the offspring of the gentilman Jafeth come Habraham, Moyses, Aron, and 
the profettys ; and also the kyng of the right lyne of Mary, of whom that gentil- 
man Jhesus was borne, very God and man ; after his manhoode kynge of the 
land of Jude and of Jues, gentilman by his modre Mary, prince of cote armure." 
1 A reviewer has blamed me for using the word honor and not saying what I 



230 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



generous, as well as refined feelings, and polished deportment 
— a character to which all meanness, explosive irritableness, 
and peevish fretfulness are alien ; to which, consequently, a 
generous candor, scrupulous veracity, and essential truthful- 
ness, courage, both moral and physical, dignity, self-respect, 
a studious avoidance of giving offence to others or oppressing 
them, and liberality in thought, argument, and conduct, are 
habitual and have become natural. Perhaps we are justified 
in saying that the character of the gentleman implies an 
addition of refinement of feeling and loftiness of conduct to 
the rigid dictates of morality and the purifying precepts of 
religion. It seems to me that we always connect with the 
word gentleman the ideas of honor, polish, collectedness of 
mind, and liberal disposition, and feel that its antagonistic 
characters are — if you will permit me, in the spirit of philo- 
sophical inquiry, to use words some of which do not often 
find a befitting place in a gentlemanly discourse — the clown, 
the gossip, the backbiter, the dullard, coward, braggart, fretter, 
swaggerer, the snob, the flunkey, the bully, the ruffian, and 
the blackguard, according to the special attribute of the gen- 
tleman, the opposite to which we may be desirous of pointing 
out in the antagonistic character. 

If I use here the word polish, I mean, indeed, that urbanity 
which, in most cases, is the effect of a careful education and 
choice intercourse, consisting, in other words, in high breeding, 
but which, nevertheless, may result from native qualities so 
strong that subsequent cultivation may become comparatively 
unimportant. There are native gentlemen, as there are native 
captains, bards, orators, and diplomatists. Whoever has read 
Captain Wilson's account of. the Pelew Islands 1 will concede 



mean, adding that people use honor in very different ways : some think it consists 
in paying debts incurred at game, others in treating ladies deferentially but not 
caring how many servant-girls may be seduced. Did the reviewer really mean 
that I should build a causeway of definitions as I went along? 

1 Account of the Pelew Islands, composed from the Journals of Captain Henry 
Wilson, wrecked on those Islands in the Ship Antelope, in 1783, by G. Keate, 
Esq.: 4th edition, London, 1789. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



231 



that the king Abba Thulle and his brothers, especially Raa 
Kook, were, in all their nudity and want of acquaintance with 
white men, as delicately feeling and complete gentlemen as 
can be found in any nation of long-planted civilization ; and 
I have at this moment an old, now departed, negro slave in 
my mind, whom I have never seen otherwise than obliging, 
polite, anticipating, dignified, true, and forbearing — in short, 
a gentleman in his lowly sphere. As a matter of course, this 
can take place by way of exception only ; but the more diffi- 
cult the exception the more honorable is the instance. 

A term which has so long a history as that of gentleman, 
and whose meaning has passed through so many phases, is, 
naturally, still used in many different senses ; nor can the 
cognate words, such as gentility, 1 be expected to correspond 



1 The following extract — somewhat amusing to us in the middle of the nine- 
teenth century, which is so deeply marked by broad, popular, national impulses 
— is taken from Visions of the Times of Old ; or, the Antiquarian Enthusiast, 
by Robert Bigsby, Esq., LL.D. : 3 vols., London, 1849: 

" Degrees of Gentility. 
" The grant of a coat-of-arms constituting, therefore, a valuable distinction, a 
mark by which certain parties are hereditarily to be recognized as superior in 
rank to the general body of the people, it necessarily follows that any usurpation 
of that privilege by others is an offence, both in politics and morals, which de- 
serves and should always meet with a ready exposure and punishment. There 
are four several qualities or degrees of gentility arising from the grant of coat- 
armor. One who inherits a coat-of-arms from his father is styled a gentleman 
of birth; if he derives it from his grandfather, he is termed a gentleman of blood; 
and if he succeeds to the same from his great-grandfather or other more distant 
progenitor, he is entitled a gentleman of ancestry ; if he obtains the grant him- 
self, he is simply a gentleman of coat-armor. From these facts it is readily seen 
that, when once a family is created by a grant of heraldic honors, it obtains at 
every remove from the founder an added dignity in the scale of descent, and an 
acknowledged precedency of worth and estimation, as compared with others of 
later origin. The admirers of ancient blood look with comparatively little re- 
spect on arms granted at a period subsequent to the reign of the Tudors, and 
venerate with an almost superstitious regard the possessors of arms deduced from 
the era of the Plantagenets. There are still certain appointments connected with 
the court which can only be filled by gentlemen of ancient families ; and it is 
much to be regretted that the good and wise regulation which excluded from the 
profession of the bar all but gentlemen of four descents of coat-armor was ever 
rescinded." 



232 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



to one and the same sense of the main word. The different 
meanings of words branch out in different directions, and 
their derivatives and cognate terms branch out for themselves. 
It frequently happens, especially in the English language, 
that the adjective form of a noun receives an additional 
meaning or one widely different from that which we would 
have a right to expect did the grammatical relationship alone 
furnish us with a sure guidance. These topics do not lie 
within the limits of our inquiry. Our endeavor is to ascer- 
tain and dwell upon the noblest and purest meaning which, 
consciously or unconsciously, is given to the term — an adap- 
tation which has legitimately developed itself in the progress 
of the race to which we belong. 

The character of the gentleman produces an equality of 
social claims, and supersedes rank, office, or title. It estab- 
lishes a republic of intercourse, as we speak of the republic 
of letters. Nowhere appears, and indeed nowhere can appear, 
this fact more strikingly than in the mess-room of a British 
regiment, where the colonel and the ensign, who, under arms, 
stand in the relation of the strictest military discipline, meet 
on the common ground of gentlemanly equality, and freely 
accord to each other the privileges to which every member 
of the great commonwealth of comity is fairly entitled. The 
character of the gentleman passes the bounds of states and 
tongues, and, without enfeebling our love of country (did it so, 
we would repudiate it), gives a passport acknowledged through 
the wide domain of civilization. In antiquity, almost every 
thing was circumscribed not only by nationality, but even by 
the mural confines of the city ; in modern times, the freema- 
sonry of a liberal education, of good manners, and propriety 
of conduct — in a word, of a gentlemanlike bearing — extends 
over entire hemispheres. It is a sway which is daily widening. 
Turkey is, perhaps, now in the very act of giving in her ad- 
hesion to the community of gentlemanly nations. 

In order to place the type of the character which we are 
contemplating more distinctly before your minds, I feel in- 
duced to give you the translation of a passage which I found 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



233 



in a valuable French work, entitled British India in 1843, by 
Count Warren. The author, a Frenchman, was educated at 
Paris, obtained a lieutenancy in a British royal regiment in 
India, and served there during nine years. My translation is 
literal, and you will remember that the original was written 
by a Frenchman — a consideration which gives peculiar force 
to some parts, and will induce you to make allowance for 
others on the score of French vivacity. Count Warren, 
speaking of his colonel and the aide-de-camp of the regiment, 
says : 

" I found in those two men a type essentially English, and, 
at the same time, a degree of perfection to which it is, 
perhaps, not given to Frenchmen to attain. The reader must 
have seen that I was not disposed to view the defects of 
English society with too indulgent an eye ; I do not compare 
it, for a moment, with ours, as to engaging qualities — urbanity, 
kindness, simplicity — and as to all the delights which can 
render life happy, such as grace, bonhomie, and charming 
manners ; but as we do not find the diamond in gold and silver 
mines, but in the layers of crumbled rocks and coarse sand, 
so do we find the most perfect type of man buried deep in the 
rude elements of our neighbors : the perfect English gentle- 
man is the Phoenix of the human species. There is wanting 
in Frenchmen, to attain to this height, nothing but a more 
elevated and intense sentiment of personal dignity, a more 
religious respect for the divine part which the Almighty has 
vouchsafed to men. There are few — I might say, there is not 
one — among us who is a hero before his valet-de-chambre * 



1 I cannot allow this passage to appear again in print without giving wider 
circulation to an excellent saying which is ascribed to the philosopher Hegel, 
however little it may seem to be connected with the subject immediately in 
hand. 

Great men were spoken of, when some one flippantly repeated the old saying 
that no one is a hero before his valet-de-chambre. " This is true," said Hegel, 
" most true ; not, however, because no hero is a hero, but because a valet-de- 
chambre is a valet-de-chambre." 

A community sinks very low when it loses the capacity of acknowledging 
greatness, and an individual caricatures in a despicable manner the calmness of 



234 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



or his most intimate friend. However excellent a Frenchman 
may be in society before strangers or in the presence of ladies, 
his very bonhomie causes him at once to lower himself so soon 
as he is alone with the friend of his heart, the companion of 
his studies, the confidant or messenger of his first follies. 
This results, I shall be answered, from an excess of two good 
qualities — from our absence of affectation, and the gayety so 
characteristic of the French temper ; but we have also gener- 
ally the defects of these two qualities — an inclination to let 
ourselves go without restraint, impurity of thought and con- 
versation, 1 exaggeration, and harlequinade? which we are 
astonished to meet with at every moment in the gravest men 
and best minds. The perfect English gentleman never follows 
solely his impulses, and never lowers himself. He carries 
conscientiousness and the remembrance of his dignity into 
the smallest details of life. His temper never betrays him, 
for it is of the same character with his exterior ; his house 
might be of glass ; every one of his acts can bear the broadest 
light and defy criticism. From this we see that the individual 
whom we have delineated is not a product purely indigenous : 
he must undergo several transplantations, respire the air of 
the continent, and especially of France, in order to attain to 
perfect maturity, and to get rid of certain qualities inherent 
in the native soil — disdainfulness, prejudices, etc. But, if ed- 
ucation, circumstances, and travel have favored this develop- 
ment, it is of him, above all, that we may say, he is the lord 
of creation." 3 

The Duchess of Abrantes, as enthusiastically a French- 
woman in feeling, opinion, and spirit as ever loved la belle 
France, says, in her Memoirs, that she must relate an anecdote 



a gentleman when he interprets the Horatian Nil admirare as consisting in 
stolid indifference to the noblest and the worst things. 

1 Grivois in the original, which is, literally translated, smuttiness. 

a The original is Harlequinade : I could not translate it buffoonery. 

3 " 'Avant tout je suis gentilhomme Anglais? was the preface of the fierce 
message sent by the then (1815) foremost man of the world to the King of 
France." — Kinglake, Invasion of the Crimea. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 235 

of Lord Wellington, when fighting against her husband in 
Spain, " showing him in that favorable aspect which is really 
the radiant light surrounding the true English gentleman." x 

So far our French authors, the first of whom is right in 
calling the character designated the gentleman a type pecu- 
liarly Anglican. It belongs to the English race ; nor is it 
long since it has been developed in its present and important 
form. Lord Campbell, in his Lives of the Lord Chancellors 
of England, says that one of the earliest instances of the 
word gentleman being used in the modern sense was when in 
1640 the Commons, unwilling to vote supplies to Charles I. 
before settling their grievances, although the king had 
promised to give due consideration to the latter, were told by 
Lord Keeper Finch that they should freely vote the money, 
for " they had the word of a king, and not only so, but the 
word of a gentleman." 2 But so occurs a passage in Shak- 
speare : " Sir, the king is a noble gentleman ;" and Pistol 
calls himself, in Henry V., " as good a gentleman as the em- 
peror." The passage, however, in which the poet seems to 
approach closest to the modern sense of the word, is that in 
which Antonio, a merchant, is called "a true gentleman." 3 
Yet it cannot be denied that throughout Shakspeare's works 
— that surprising panorama of human life — the term gentle- 
man is almost exclusively used either for nobleman, or a man 



1 Vol. ix. p. 202, Paris edition of 1835. It is with pain that now, in 1863, 
the author is obliged to add that an unfortunately large number of the English 
people have deviated from the course of gentlemanly frankness, sympathy, and 
largeness of heart towards a people manfully struggling for their imperilled 
country, ever since our civil war began. 

2 See note to page 561, vol. ii., of Lives of the Lord Chancellors. Lord 
Byron distinguishes in a manner somewhat similar between nobleman and gen- 
tleman, when, in the preface to Marino Faliero, he observes that "it is the fashion 
to underrate Horace Walpole; firstly, because he was a nobleman; and, secondly, 
because he was a gentleman." In Prussia, characteristically enough, the term 
officer had acquired in some particulars the meaning of man of honor, of gen- 
tleman. " My lord general, on the word of an officer, I am far more of an im- 
perialist than a Hanoverian," was said by Frederic William I. — Ranke, History 
of Prussia, English Translation, vol. i. p. 215. 

3 Merchant of Venice, III., 4. 



236 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

of the higher classes with polished and graceful manners ; or 
its meaning is in a state of transition between the knight of 
high and sensitive honor and the modern gentleman ; but it 
hardly ever designates the true modern gentleman, although 
the word occurs nearly five hundred times, according to the 
laborious concordance for which the public is obliged to Mrs. 
Cowden Clarke. 

You will, of course, not misunderstand the position I have 
advanced, that the present type of the gentleman is of modern 
development and Anglican origin, as if I could mean that 
there are no true gentlemen in other countries, or that there 
have been none in antiquity. All I can wish to convey is 
that with other races, and at other periods, the character of 
the gentleman has not developed itself as a national type, and 
as a readily understood and universally acknowledged aggre- 
gate of certain substantial and lofty attributes ; nor is there 
now, in any other language, a word corresponding in meaning 
to the word gentleman, though all of Latin origin have words 
of the same etymology. Even in English the word gentle- 
woman has not followed, in the modification of its meaning, 
the corresponding change in the signification of the term 
gentleman, though the word lady has done so upon the whole. 
The French word gentilhomme has retained the meaning which 
we give to the English word cavalier. 

Instances of gentlemanliness in antiquity, or with other 
races, are not wanting. The ancient Darma Shastra of the 
Hindoos ordain that a man who loses a lawsuit shall not be 
liable to punishment if, in leaving the court, he murmurs or 
openly rails against the judge — a law, it will be acknowledged, 
exclusively dictated by a spirit of gentlemanly forbearance. 
When Lycurgus treated Alcander, who had put out one of 
his eyes, with forbearance and even confidence, he proved 
himself a gentleman, as he did towards his nephew Charilaus, 
under the most- tempting circumstances. When Caesar, after 
the battle at Pharsalia, burned the correspondence of Pompey, 
which might have disclosed to him the names of all his per- 
sonal and most dangerous enemies, he acted as a gentleman ; 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



237 



if, indeed, he did not throw a secret glance at them, which, 
from the general tenor of his life, we have, perhaps, no right 
to suppose. Alexander began his career as a high-bred gen- 
tleman towards friend and foe, and could never wholly disguise 
that nature had moulded him for one ; but what with wither- 
ing absolute power, intoxicating victories, and riotous intem- 
perance, she was robbed of her fair handiwork. The pages 
of Prescott impress us with the sad belief that Montezuma 
was a gentleman, but he was not treated as such ; for the 
Spaniards, punctiliously courteous among themselves, did 
not think it necessary to bear themselves as cavaliers — how 
rarely even as men ! — towards the " unbaptized rabble." The 
French officer who, in the Peninsular battle, charged the 
English commander, but merely saluted him when he found 
that the latter had only the bridle-arm and could not fight, was 
assuredly a gentleman. 1 But we speak here of national types, 
of distinct classes of characters, clearly stamped by an im- 
print known and acknowledged by the whole people ; 2 and as 
to antiquity, we need only remember the scurrilous invectives 
with which even the first orators did not think it beneath them 
to assail their opponents in the Roman senate or the Athenian 
ecclesia, to be aware that, in our times, a member would be 



1 Jotee Persaud, a Parsee banker, was called by Lord Ellenborough, years ago, 
in the House of Lords, "a gentleman; for gentleman he is, remarkable for his 
gentleman-like manners where all have such manners." 

2 We have a parallel case in the character of the philanthropist. There were 
mild and charitable persons in antiquity. The account of the Samaritan was 
felt and understood by every hearer. The ancient Hindoo law-giver, who sub- 
limely commanded, " Be like the sandal-tree, which sheds perfume on the axe 
that fells it," was inspired with more than mere philanthropy; yet the type of 
the philanthropist, that combination of attributes which we associate with the 
word, is a modern type, and was unknown in antiquity or the Middle Ages. 
There would be something strangely odd in speaking of an ancient Roman 
philanthropist, except it were done for the very purpose of indicating how the 
individual in antiquity anticipated the character and stood alone in his virtues, 
now connected with the term philanthropist. The type of the opposition member 
is another. There were citizens in ancient times, as in the Middle Ages, who, 
though opposed to the ruling power, did not brood over sedition or revolt ; yet 
the loyal opposition member is a strictly modern type — a noble and indispensable 
type, yet fully developed only since the times of George I. 



238 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

instantly declared out of order and put down, were he to make 
use of similar language and resort to equal personalities, even 
in assemblies in which, to the detriment of public tone and 
public service, deviations from parliamentary decorum no 
longer form rare exceptions. Falsehood did not disgrace 
with the ancients as it does with modern free nations. 

It does not appear difficult to account for the fact that the 
peculiar character which we call the gentleman should be of 
comparatively late development, and have shown itself first 
fully developed with the English people. Each of the various 
constituents of this character required peculiar social conditions 
to come to maturity. The Middle Ages were at times — though 
not so often as is frequently supposed — sufficiently favorable 
to the development of chivalrous honor under the united in- 
fluence of an active love of individual independence, and a 
softening reverence for the softer sex. But one of the per- 
vading characteristics of those angry times was that of exclu- 
sive privilege, contradistinguished from a broad acknowledg- 
ment of the rights of all and a willing recognition of humanity 
in every one — shown even in a graduated duty of allegiance. 
Mediaeval liberty was almost always a chartered one, extorted 
by him who had the power to extort, and grudged by him 
who had not the power to withhold. Modern liberty, on the 
contrary, is constitutional, that is, national, recognizing rights 
in all, covering the land, and compassing the power-holder 
himself. The ideal of modern liberty is that it be broadcast ; 
the ideal of mediaeval freedom was that of the highest amount 
and complex of privileges. Each privilege begets the desire 
of another in those who are deprived of it, and the idea of 
privilege implies that of exclusiveness ; but that mediaeval 
exclusiveness, and the constant feuds and appeals to the 
sword, prevented the growth of the collected calmness, ready 
forbearance, and kind reciprocity which we have acknowledged 
as necessary elements of the modern gentleman. 

Later periods, especially in the progress of manners in 
France, were propitious to the development of refinement 
and a polished deportment ; but it was at the cost of morality, 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 239 

and took place under a daily growing despotism, which in its 
very nature is adverse to mutual reliance and acknowledgment, 
to candor and dignity of character, however favorable it may 
be to stateliness of carriage. Veracity is a plant which grows 
in abundance on the soil of civil liberty alone, and even there 
not always. The character of the gentleman, such as we now 
cherish it, was not, therefore, fairly developed, before the 
popular institutions and a broader civil liberty in England 
added a more general consciousness of rights, with their 
acknowledgment in others, a general esteem for candor, self- 
respect, and dignity, together with native English manliness 
and calmness, to the spirit of chivalry which, in some degree, 
was still traditional in the aristocracy, and to the courtesy of 
manners which perhaps had been adopted from abroad. The 
character of the cavalier was essentially aristocratic ; that of 
the gentleman is rather of a popular cast, or of a civic nature, 
and shows in this, likewise, that it belongs to modern times. 
The cavalier distinguished himself by his dress — by plume, 
lace, and cut ; the gentleman shuns external distinction, and 
shows his refinement within the limits of plain attire. 

The development of this type is owing, in a great measure, 
to the fact, important in all branches of English history, that, 
accurately and legally speaking, there is no nobleman in Eng- 
land. There are peers, but their sons are commoners. They 
had the aristocratic breeding, lofty aspirations, and also the 
aristocratic disdain : still they were legally common citizens, 
and in a generation or two became, frequently, practically so. 
On the other hand, the large landholder, though undistin- 
guished by nobility, felt, descending as he often did from the 
Norman conquerors, that he was what the nobleman on the 
continent was, where his name would infallibly have been dis- 
tinguished by that particle which designates the nobleman. 
Yet the richest landholder, if not made a peer, was the plain 
Mr. A. or B. Here was the middle ground : this formed the 
palpable transition. 

I find a book, of which the twelfth edition was published 
as late as the year 1755, with the title, "The Gentleman 



240 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



Instructed in the Conduct of a Virtuous and Happy Life. 
Written for the Instruction of a Young Nobleman. To which 
is added a Word to the Ladies. In two volumes." 

The title illustrates what I have said ; and throughout the 
work the term gentleman means a person of high birth or 
standing in society. 1 The moral reflections consist in urging 
the necessity that the gentleman should in conduct and virtue 
rise to this elevation, already existing, and making him the 
gentleman. 

The character of the gentleman includes whatever was 
valuable in the cavalier and the earlier knight, but it stands 
above him, even with reference to that very element which 
constituted a chief attribute of the cavalier — to honor. Un- 
tarnished honor depends in a great measure upon truthfulness; 
and it is a cheering fact, that the world has become more 
candid within the last two centuries. The details of the 
history of domestic intercourse, of traffic, of judicial trans- 
actions and bribes, of parliamentary procedures, of high 
politics and international affairs, bear us out in this position, 
however painfully we may even now, far too frequently, be 
forced to observe infractions of the sacred law of plain-dealing, 
religious candor, and gentlemanly veracity in individuals and 
in governments. 2 

In ascribing greater veracity to the people of free countries 
in modern times, I may appear to gainsay other and distin- 
guished writers. Montaigne actually says, that we moderns 
punish the charge of a lie so severely, which the ancients did 
not, because we lie habitually much more, and must save 
appearances. But Montaigne wrote in France, at an evil 
period ; and we may well ask, besides, whether antiquity with 
all its details was vivid in his mind when he penned that pas- 
sage. If the position I have advanced be wrong, I have, at 
any rate, not hastily come to it. I am convinced that there is 



1 Dr. Johnson's definitions of the word gentleman show the same. 

a Truthfulness obliges us to add that the meaning of the last remark has be- 
come sadly intensified within the last ten years. May it be but a transient reflux 
in the general progress of humanity ! — [Added in the year 1863.] 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



241 



at present more truth in the intercourse of men, although we 
speak and write less bluntly. Who has studied history without 
meeting occasionally with acts of deception, which we find it 
difficult to understand, because at present public opinion would 
frown upon them and utterly disgrace their authors ? When 
in modern times a flagrant act of " adjourned veracity" has 
been detected, the peccant, though they be emperors, show 
themselves anxious to remove the stain. Were there not 
times when high officers and statesmen gloried in successful 
deception ? We are not, individually, better before an om- 
niscient eye, that sees all our potential crimes and vices ; but* 
public opinion keeps us straighter and accustoms us to better 
things. And public opinion has acquired this power, because 
it can widely speak out, from nation to nation. 

Let me give you a striking instance how lightly veracity 
was held in those times, so frequently called chivalrous. I t 
with many thousands, revere the memory of Dante — of him 
who stands with Homer and Shakspeare in the foremost line 
of the high-priests of song. It is for this reason that I have 
ever read with deep aversion the occurrence with Friar Al- 
berigo, in his Inferno — an eminently ethical poem — indeed, 
that of the great poems produced by our race in which 
morality forms as active and productive an element, as heroism 
in Homer; Man, in all his phases of action and in his various 
types, in Shakspeare ; or the individual, in his subjective en- 
joyment and suffering, in Goethe. 

In this immortal poem, Dante sings that he came to a frozen 
lake in which the damned suffer from everlasting cold and have 
their first tears frozen in their eyes, so that all the others which 
the lost ones ever weep burn inwardly. There he asks one of 
the desponding who he is. The suffering sinner begs him 
first to remove his frozen tears, that for once he may enjoy 
the long-missed luxury of weeping — weeping a little only. 
First, replies Dante, tell me who thou art, and then I will do 
thy desire, " and if I do not extricate thee, may I have to go 
to the bottom of the ice." The wretched convict of hell con- 
fides, tells his story, and piteously adds: " Now reach thy hand 
Vol. I.— 16 



2 4 2 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

and open my eyes;" but Dante says: "And I opened them not 
for him, and to be rude to him was courtesy." Thus repre- 
senting himself in a song he knew he was singing for all his 
country and for posterity, in an act of meanness 1 that must 
shock every candid man. It is not " sickly philanthropy" in 
us that makes us feel thus ; it was not overwrought religion 
in Dante that could induce him thus to represent himself: it 
was a morbidness produced by harsh dogmas, such as we find 
it again and in action in the Spaniards towards the Mexicans 
and Peruvians, that could cause Dante to sing his own aban- 
donment of veracity, of pity, and a sinner's sympathy with 
sinners forever lost. 

Where so many distinct attributes, held in high and common 
esteem, are blended into one character, we must be prepared 
to meet with corresponding caricatures or mimicking imper- 
sonations of trifling dispositions and depraved passions. All 
noble things have their counterfeits, and every great idea or 
exalted type has its caricature in history. So is the saint's 
counterfeit the hypocrite; the patriot is caricatured in the 
demagogue; the thrifty husband in the miser; the frank com- 
panion in the gossip; the chaste in the prude; the sincere re- 
former in the reckless Jacobin, and the cautious statesman or 
firm believer in the necessity of progressive improvement, dis- 
trusting abrupt changes, in the idolater of the past and the 
Chinese worshipper of the forefathers. In a similar manner 
we find the sensitive honor of the gentleman counterfeited in 
the touchy duellist; his courage by the arrant bully; his 
calmness of mind by supercilious indifference or a fear of be- 
traying even the purest emotions ; his refinement of feeling 
by sentimentality or affectation ; his polished manners by a 
punctilious observance of trivial forms; his ready compliance 
with conventional forms in order to avoid notice or giving 
offence to others, or his natural habit of moving in those 
forms which have come to be established among the accom- 



1 Nor does Dante present himself more as a gentleman in the thirty second 
canto, where he describes himself as pulling out the hair of Bocca. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



243 



plished by the silly hunter after new fashions, or a censurable 
and enfeebling love of approbation; his liberality by the spend- 
thrift; his dignity and self-respect by conceit or a dogged re- 
sistance to the acknowledgment of error or wrong ; his can- 
dor by an ill-natured desire of telling unwelcome truths ; his 
freedom from petulance by incapacity of enthusiasm ; his 
composure by egotism, and his aversion from vulgarity by a 
pretended horror at coming in contact with fellow-men of a 
different set or class, and by an indifference to the motives 
which incite vast masses to action in the same proportion as 
these motives are general. But these reflections from dis- 
torting mirrors do not detract from the real worth and the 
important attributes of the well-proportioned original ; nor 
can it be said that this character has been set up as a purely 
ethical model in spite of religion. I am convinced that it was 
possible to conceive this character in its fulness only by the 
aid of Christianity, and believe — I say it with bowing rever- 
ence — that in Him to whom we look for the model of every 
perfection we also find the perfect type of that character 
which occupies our attention. 

It seems, then, plain that, in placing before us the character 
of the gentleman as one of the models of excellence, we do 
not allow the nimble hand of neomaniac fashion to substi- 
tute a puny idol, decked with tinsel imitations of substantial 
gold, for the true and lasting patterns of virtue and religion ; 
nor can you fail to perceive the vast practical importance of 
an active, ready, inward gentlemanliness, from which a gen- 
tlemanlike conduct as naturally results as the spontaneous 
effect from any healthy organism. 

In all spheres of our lives there occur many acts of so com- 
plex a nature that, if they are submitted to a long process of 
reasoning, which possibly may appear the more impartial the 
more heartlessly it is undertaken, they will allow of a per- 
plexing number of arguments for and against, of bewildering 
precedents on either side, and of distinctions more embar- 
rassing than unravelling, so that in the end we see our way 
less clearly than at the beginning — acts from which, neverthe- 



244 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

less, a mind instinct with genuine gentlemanliness will shrink 
at once, as being of doubtful candor, dangerous to honor, 
of suspicious honesty, or inclining to what is illiberal or un- 
dignified. No merchant or artisan, no advocate, statesman, 
teacher, or minister — no citizen, in whatever circle he may 
move — no husband or friend, none of you, in your prepara- 
tory spheres, can avoid being called upon promptly to decide 
in cases of this nature. Acts somewhat tinctured with what 
Ave might call unhandsome, or slightly tainted with what may 
be mean, cannot always be distinctly discerned as such by the 
reasoning faculties ; and yet such acts are dangerous, because 
they are infusions of impurity into our soul, where nothing is 
at rest, but everything, good or evil, is in constant assimilating 
activity — a psychological law which is subject to far fewer 
exceptions, if any, than the corresponding law of assimilation 
of matter in the animal body. 

History is full of these instances ; daily life surrounds us 
with them ; and although the pure principles as well as pre- 
cepts of religion are invaluable, and of the greatest importance 
to all ethic vitality, and for which indeed you can find no sub- 
stitute, search where you may, yet a keen and instinctive sense 
and glowing love of honor, watchful and prompt self-respect, 
and habitual recoiling from what is low, vulgar, coarse, and 
base in thought, feeling, deed, or manner, form an active moral 
coefficient, or, if I may say so, an additional faculty quickly 
to receive impressions upon which religious consciousness 
decides and works. 

Young gentlemen, a clear and vigorous intellect is, in the 
perception and application of moral truths, as important as in 
any other sphere of thought or action ; but the general state 
of the soul and the frame of mind are of greater importance: 
while no one will deny that gentlemanship, taken in the sense 
in which the word has been used here, contributes to a pure 
general frame of mind. Forgetting the primary importance 
of the purity of the soul, and the belief that the morality 
of human acts is ascertained by a minute weighing of their 
possible effects upon others, and not upon the actor himself, 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 245 

or by subtle definitions of the millions of acts which may 
occur in our lives, is one of the radical and besetting vices 
of the Jesuitical casuists, of an Escobar, Saa, Busenbaum, 
Bauny, Suarez, and innumerable other doctorts graves, as 
they are styled by 'their own order — a vice which led them 
to rear their amazing system of turpitude, in ethics, and of 
teaching the most absolute and abject obedience to religious 
superiors, and at times the most disorganizing doctrines in 
politics. 1 

It will be scarcely necessary here to mention the question, 
unfortunately still at times moved, whether a man be safe if he 
make the law of the land the sole standard of his moral con- 
duct. To put this question shows the utmost confusion of 
morals and politics, of the righteous and the legal, of the law 
written in our heart and the statute printed in the book ; of 
the commandments of virtue, the resistance to which must 
remain possible, or we should lose our moral character, and 
the ordinances of civil authority, which must be enforced and 
complied with, though it be only because a penalty threatens 
the transgressor; of the codes by which fellow-men judge a 
few acts of ours here beneath, and that one code by which 
our Maker judges our whole soul above. It shows a con- 
fusion of the highest moral idea — holiness — with a written 
specification of prohibited acts ; and it simply proves that he 
who can put this question does not know what the object of 
government is. But it seems to be certain that, comprehensive 
as this error is, a clear perception of the obligations of the 
gentleman is one of the safeguards against falling into it. 
There are thousands of actions which a gentleman cannot 
find the heart to perform, although the law of the land would 
permit them, and ought to permit them, lest an intermeddling 
despotism should stifle all freedom of action. Political and 



1 Ellendorf, a Catholic priest, mentions three hundred of these doctores graves 
in his work, Morals and Politics of the Jesuits, according to the Writings of the 
most renowned theological Authors of this Order, with the motto, By their fruits 
ye shall know them. Darmstadt, 1840. It is of all Catholic works far the 
severest against the Jesuits with which I am acquainted. 



246 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

positive laws are not intended to be substitutes for our con- 
science, or the sole, or even the chief, guides of our conduct 
through life. 

A man may be a heartless husband, a cruel or foolish 
father, a degenerate son, an unfeeling brother, an ungrateful 
pupil, or an undutiful teacher ; he may be a careless guardian, 
an irksome neighbor, a hard creditor, or worthless citizen and 
unprincipled politician ; he may be uncharitable, coarse, cap- 
tious, indolent, mean, false, cowardly, selfish, sordid, and 
fanatical ; he may be intemperate, obscene, and impious ; he 
may be morally and physically repulsive in every way, and a 
hundred times worse than many whom the law has justly 
struck ; and yet he may pass through life unscathed by justice, 
possibly for the very reason that he is a mean and selfish man, 
who knows well how to subordinate his passions to calculating 
egotism. Justice and liberty cease that moment when the 
law strikes aught but palpable acts ; yet a person may leisurely 
travel the whole round of infamy and still guardedly keep 
from within striking-distance of the law. It ought to be so ; 
but the law does not sustain infamy on that account: the law 
is not the code of our soul ; the constable is not the substitute 
for our conscience. 

My young friends, if you apply the characteristics of the 
gentleman, as I have felt myself justified and obliged to point 
them out, to man's practical course, you will find, first, as to 
our daily life and personal intercourse, that the calmness of 
mind, which we have acknowledged as a constituent of the 
character of the gentleman, naturally leads him to use tem- 
perate language, and prevents him from indulging in careless 
vulgarity, unmanly exaggeration, or violent coarseness. Deal- 
ing in superlatives, substituting extravagant figures of speech 
for arguments or facts, and interweaving our discourse with 
words of the gravest import used as profane expletives, while 
it shows want of taste, proves also a consciousness of weak- 
ness, which may consist in the character of the speaker and 
the argument, or in his habitual perception that he is not able 
fully and forcibly to deliver his thoughts and feelings. Men 



THE CHARACTER OF 7 HE GENTLEMAN. 247 

who are in the habit of thinking clearly, and have learned to 
speak promptly, perspicuously, and vigorously, are not those 
who deal in profane invocations or revolting imprecation ; and 
it is an attribute of the accomplished gentleman to deliver 
himself with propriety and to speak well, "there being nothing 
more becoming a gentleman, nor more useful in all the oc- 
currences of life, than to be able on any occasion to speak 
well and to the purpose." These are the words of a wise 
man and a shrewd observer — of Locke in his Essay on Edu- 
cation ; and if perhaps the philosopher alludes, in this passage, 
more particularly to speeches and debates proper, I must beg 
you to observe likewise that, important though they be, the 
daily conversation is more important, as the comfort, decency, 
and salubrity of the common dwellings of men are still more 
important than the chaste propriety or lofty style of public 
edifices. The kindness of his feeling prevents him from 
vaunting; moroseness and asperity are foreign to him; and 
his forbearance as well as generosity make him the safe keeper 
of secrets, even without the special exaction of secrecy. He 
is not meddlesome ; and it is a principle with him not only to 
keep positive secrets, but to abstain from talking about the 
personal affairs of others as a general rule, to be suspended 
only when there is a positive and specific reason for so doing. 
The discourse of the gentleman turns chiefly upon facts, not 
persons. He keeps a secret, even though it give him power 
over an antagonist, because a secret of this kind is power, and 
a generous use of all power is one of the essential attributes of 
the true gentleman. Nor does he indicate that he possesses 
a secret ; for doing so is vanity, and conceit and vanity are 
undignified and lower the person that harbors them. His 
polish makes him the civil attendant upon the weaker sex, 
but his essential refinement does not allow him to carry this 
necessary element of all civilization to a degree of caricature, 
in treating women as if they were incapable of argument, and 
must forego the privilege of being dissented from, or of ar- 
riving at truth by their own reasoning. He shows instinctive 
deference to old age, and respect to superior authority. In 



248 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



j 



discussions, he shows his true character not only by his calm- 
ness and by abstaining from offensive positiveness, but also 
by the fairness of his arguments. He does not recur to those 
many fallacies which, though they belong to vulgar minds, or 
whose employment shows that we consider our adversaries as 
such, are, nevertheless, not without effect in brisk disputes. 
The well-bred gentleman gladly seizes upon those minor yet 
delicate attentions which, though apparently trifling, are 
cheering tokens of a friendly heart, and may be compared to 
graceful flowerets growing by the roadside of the rugged and 
toilsome path of life. His habitual candor will make him, to 
use a familiar term, " off-hand" in his intercourse with friends; 
he delights in serving others, and, in turn, feels the luxury of 
being grateful. Above all, it pains him to give pain; and he 
does and feels all that we have mentioned, without affectation, 
selfishness, or pedantry. 

Let us, on the other hand, apply our principles to some of 
the most prominent professions or situations in practical life, 
such as it has formed itself with our race. Whichever field, 
young gentlemen, you may choose for your future labors in 
practical life, it is necessary that you carry the standard of 
the gentleman with you, and that now, ere the manifold 
temptations of busy life beset you, you fix it firmly in your 
soul by daily practice. 

Those of you who intend to become divines must remember 
that the importance and very meaning of the minister's calling 
are founded upon a constant intercourse with men whom he 
has to teach, to guide, to save — an intercourse depending for 
its usefulness upon the confidence reposed in his sincerity of 
faith, purity of morals, prudence, and honorable bearing. 
You will have no other power to support you. The govern- 
ment does not build your churches. If a congregation are 
convinced that their pastor is a true Christian, a learned divine, 
and a perfect gentleman, he has the strongest hold on their 
confidence in him. He must not forget that the pulpit gives 
him a periodical and frequent opportunity of speaking to large 
numbers without reply. This is power and requires, like 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 249 

every power, to be wielded in a gentlemanlike manner, if its 
possessor wishes to secure himself against his own abuse of 
it. If, on the other hand, the divine descends into the arena 
of controversy — which, however undesirable, it does not 
always depend upon him to avoid — he can hardly inflict a 
severer injury upon his sacred cause than by exhibiting to the 
world, and calling forth in his adversaries, bitterness of spirit, 
unfairness of argument, or passionate, gross, and abusive 
language — in short, the conduct " unbecoming a gentleman." 
The great cause of the Reformation was immeasurably injured 
by the undignified and even scurrilous character of many 
controversial writings on both sides, in a degree which makes 
us still bear the consequences, and which greatly interfered 
with the diffusion of truth over Europe. Let no one persuade 
you that this vehemence, as the ungentlemanly bitterness and 
rudeness are sometimes called by way of euphemism, was 
necessary against violent enemies, and according to the spirit 
of the times. It is as bigoted as to say that so selfish and 
sanguinary a despot as Henry VIII. was necessary to break 
up the convents. No great and enduring cause stands in 
need of low or iniquitous means ; and every low, vulgar, 
or heartless word engenders two and three in reply. That 
which is great and true is best promoted by means high and 
pure. 

Others of you will enter the profession of the law. They 
will avoid many dangers incident to this profession by loyally 
adhering to the character of the gentleman. The advocate, 
in our country and in England, enjoys high privileges — that 
is, power. Probably it is not desirable or feasible to check 
its abuse in all cases : at any rate, as matters stand, he can 
frequently abuse it without the probability of being restrained. 
It becomes, therefore, the more necessary that he check him- 
self. I do not now speak of that in a lawyer's practice which 
is censurable upon the broad and immutable principles of 
morality, and from which the profession of the advocate does 
no more absolve than any other calling. What a degradation 
of the lawyer if, like the Japanese wife, he were incapable of 



250 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



doing wrong! 1 Nor do I speak of "those too common 
faults," as the great lawyer Matthew Hale said, " of misrepre- 
senting evidence, quoting precedents or books falsely, or 
asserting anything confidently by which ignorant juries or 
weak judges are too often wrought upon." 2 I believe these 
trespasses are now far rarer. Nor shall I dwell upon the fact 
that a gentlemanly spirit must needs be a safeguard against 
becoming a " leguleius quidam cautus et acutus, praeco ac- 
tionum, cantor formularum, auceps syllabarum." 3 The petti- 
fogger and the legicrepa, as the Low Latin had it, are the 
opposites to the gentleman advocate — one of the finest types 
of the citizen of a free country. Nor need I mention that it 
is incumbent upon a judge to move scrupulously within the 
limits of the gentleman, if it be incumbent upon any one in 
the wide range of civilized society. I pass over all this, as 
plainly obvious ; but I must mention to you, inexperienced as 
you are, that lawyers not unfrequently, here as well as in 
England, allow their zeal for the client or the prosecution to 
make them visibly swerve from the path of the gentleman. 

However close and searching your examination of a witness 
may be, you are bound by all the laws of morality, by all the 
principles of high-mindedness, and by the meaning of the 
institution of the advocate itself, to behave as gentlemen 
towards him whom the laws of your society place for a time 
in an irksome situation and make dependent upon you. You 
are bound by all that is sacred and gentlemanly not to use 
those means and artifices towards a helpless and uneducated 
witness, which a witness of education and standing would 
quickly stop by an appeal to the bench. You are bound to 
follow the plain and direct dictates of an ingenuous man, in 
the simplicity of his heart, and clearly to remember that the 
practice of every profession, be it that of the lawyer, the army, 
the church, the author, the physician, the navy, or any other, 



1 But, then, the Japanese husband is answerable for his wife; who is answer- 
able for the advocate ? 

a Burnet's Life of Sir Matthew Hale, p. 72. 

3 Cicero, in Oratore. fragm. ap. Augustin I., 3 contra Acad., c. 7. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 2 $I 

has a natural tendency to blunt or misdirect the feelings of 
its votaries in complicated cases of professional morality. A 
usage perhaps correct in the main is laid down in a sententious 
manner, perhaps in Latin, and soon it becomes a cruel bed of 
Procrustes, while the professional hauteur makes deaf to all 
protests of the non-professional. Nearly all great reforms 
have begun with those who did not belong to the respective 
profession, or to the successful competitors in the respective 
hierarchy. 

Lord Brougham, when counsel of the accused queen of 
George IV., used this language : " An advocate, by the sacred 
duties which he owes his client, knows, in the discharge of 
that office, but one person in the world — that client, and none 
other. To save that client by all expedient means, to protect 
that client at all hazards and cost to all others, and, among 
other things, to himself, is the highest and most unquestioned 
of his duties. He must not regard the alarm, the suffering, 
the torment, the destruction, which he may bring on any 
other." 

These words, logically considered, absurd, morally mon- 
strous, psychologically interesting — for they show how far a 
mind of a very high order may err when in hot pursuit of a 
professional end — will strike you, not yet hardened by the 
peculiar ethics of a class or profession, as I have designated 
them ; but, what is more, they have actually been repeated 
approvingly as an authority by professional writers. 1 



1 They have also found their deserts. Mr. Kimball, quoting them in his St. 
Leger ; or, the Threads of Life, says, " A more monstrous doctrine, I do not 
hesitate to say, was never broached. There is no such thing, there ought to be 
no such thing, as the morality of the advocate as distinguished from the morality 
of the man. The most that the advocate can assume, either in criminal or civil 
cases, is to be clothed with the rights and duties of his client. That client has 
no right to fabricate, to prevaricate, or to falsify, for the sake of a defence ; 
neither has the advocate a right to do it for him. The rationale of an advocate's 
labors is, that he is engaged in trying to find all the evidence of the truth on one 
side, his opponent seeking similar evidence on the opposite, judge and jury put- 
ting two sides together in getting at the whole truth. 

" Falsehood is no element of truth ; and to pretend that an advocate is at the 
command (and for money) of a confessed felon or admitted swindler, is to take 



252 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



Let me give you another quotation, taken from a biography 
of the famous Mr. Curran. 

" It was the object almost with every one to preoccupy so 
successful or so dangerous an advocate ; for, if he failed in 
inducing a jury to sympathize with his client, he at all events 
left a picture of his adversary behind him which survived and 
embittered the advantages of victory. Nor was his eloquence 
his only weapon : at cross-examination, the most difficult and 
by far the most hazardous part of a barrister's profession, he 
was quite inimitable. There was no plan which he did not 
detect, no web which he did not disentangle ; and the unfor- 
tunate wretch who commenced with all the confidence of 
preconcerted perjury, never failed to retreat before him in all 
the confusion of exposure. Indeed, it was almost impossible 
for the guilty to offer a successful resistance. He argued, he 
cajoled, he ridiculed, he mimicked, he played off the various 
artillery of his talent upon the witness ; he would affect 
earnestness upon trifles, and levity upon subjects of the most 
serious import, until at length he succeeded in creating a 
security that was fatal, or a sullenness that produced all the 
consequences of prevarication. No matter how unfair the 
topic, he never failed to avail himself of it ; acting upon the 
principle that, in law as well as in war, every stratagem was 
admissible. If he was hard pressed, there was no peculiarity 
of person, no singularity of name, no eccentricity of pro- 
fession, at which' he would not grasp, trying to confound the 
self-possession of the witness by the no-matter-how-excited 
ridicule of the audience. To a witness of the name of Half- 
penny he once began, ' Halfpenny, I see you are a rap ; and 
for that reason you shall be nailed to the counter.' ' Half- 
penny is sterling' exclaimed the opposite counsel. ' No, no/ 
said he ; ' he's exactly like his own conscience — only copper- 



a very low position for the bar. For one, I have never seen any difficulty in this 
subject. I do not believe an advocate has any right to say or do for his client 
what he would not say and do for himself; and, as he would not (if a true man) 
either misstate or mystify, color or conceal, in his own behalf, how can he do 
these things in behalf of another ?" 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 253 

washed! This phrase alluded to an expression previously 
used on the trial." 

And now I simply ask these questions : 

Is this the picture of a gentleman and an upright man? 
When such practices were lauded and raised advocates into 
distinction, no wonder that Dr. Arnold besought his best 
pupils not to select the profession of the bar, as most danger- 
ous to an upright man and a gentleman. 

Where were the judges to check such outrages and low 
practices — to protect the witness ? 

If every stratagem is allowed in law as in war, and if with 
equal right the merchant says, " A trick in trade, etc. ;" if the 
diplomatist considers cunning and circumventing the essence 
of his trade ; if the politicians say, and they have done so in 
print, " Everything is allowed in politics ;" if the officers of 
the army say, and they have done so in many countries, 
"The soldier has no honor except absolute obedience to 
the king ;" if the priests say, and they have done so, that 
" for the greater glory of the church," nothing must be 
conceded to the opponent, and every evil, even crimes, within 
the church, must be concealed ; if political partisanship in- 
duces even divines publicly to defend a fearful outrage, 
because committed by political vengeance; if the zealot jus- 
tifies " pious frauds" ; if princes break their solemn oaths for 
" reasons of state," and others are applauded for throwing 
them to the winds in order to obtain a crown, provided 
they are successful though it be with torrents of blood ; if 
the pupil, acknowledging a lie to be dishonorable, still 
maintains it may be indulged in if proffered to a teacher; if 
citizens, otherwise respectable, consider a custom-house oath 
of no very binding power; if truth is jostled like an inconve- 
nient guest out of the particular house of every one, though 
acknowledged as a most honorable visitor by every one in 
general, where shall it find an abiding place ? And if common 
truth and common honesty be thus driven from our doors, 
how can a gentlemanly conduct — and, still more, how can 
that holiness which is the stamp of the Christian religion, 



254 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

marking it from all others — be honored without the deepest 
hypocrisy? 1 



1 In the first and second editions of this composition, I gave at this place the 
case of Courvoisier and the conduct of his counsel, who, as it was then univer- 
sally understood and remained for years uncontradicted by Mr. Phillips himself, 
had the confession of the prisoner that he had murdered Lord William Russell, 
yet called on the Most High as a witness that he, counsel, believed the prisoner 
innocent, insinuated that a female fellow -servant of Courvoisier might have done 
the deed, charged a respectable witness with perjury and with keeping a house 
of ill repute, and called the police-officers, who detected his client, a pack of 
ruffians. The ' case excited the greatest attention, and produced a number of 
articles, reviews, and other writings. Mr. Townsend, in his Modern State 
Trials, defended Mr. Phillips, and gives his views on the duties of counsel. 
Both are unsatisfactory and inconclusive. In the year 1849 tne London Exam- 
iner returned to the charges against Mr. Phillips, and his friend Mr. Samuel 
Warren begged him to take notice of the charges and to refute them. Mr. 
Phillips then published a statement, for which I refer the American reader to the 
Appendix of Professional Ethics, by George Sharswood, Philadelphia, 1855. 
The author gives on page 41 a number of publications on the subject; but the 
inquiring reader ought, in addition, to read the London Examiner of November, 
1849, or tne London Spectator, 24th November and 1st December, 1849. This 
is not the place to investigate whether the odium has been wholly removed. 
Mr. Phillips's declaration that he had a most fearful night when the murderer, 
after confessing to him, sent him a message to the effect that he considered his 
life in Phillips's hands, seems somewhat surprising. Courvoisier " had confided 
in him." Confided in him, of course, as legal counsel. But, even if not, am I 
bound by extraordinary scruples if a murderer, blood-begrimed, rushes into my 
house, states his deed, and asks for shelter ? I still think Mr. Phillips ought to 
have declined serving as counsel after the confession, for as a truthful man he 
could not do justice to his client, or else have closely limited himself to a watch- 
ful care that nothing but the law be adhered to. Nor does the invocation of the 
Deity seem wholly to be removed, although it was not in the repulsive form 
as first charged. The London Spectator of 1st December, 1849, in an article 
headed Morals of the Bar, boldly says, " But the charge which has been made 
against Mr. Phillips is one that might in its material substance be made against 
the bar generally — one that has been against it for years." 

Although the following extract is long, I give it, from the London Spectator 
of 19th April, 1 85 1, because it is pertinent, and because such occurrences are not 
officially reported : 

" The opinions delivered by Mr. Baron Martin on the proper function and 
responsibility of the bar, at a trial of the Central Criminal Court on Saturday, 
will probably have excellent effect in unventilated moral regions of the Old 
Bailey. John Moss, servant of Mr. George Brettle, was indicted for stealing from 
his master a telescope, clothing, and other articles of personal property, worth 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 2 $$ 

Let me not be misunderstood. I consider it every way 
necessary that an indicted prisoner have his defender, that is, 



ioo/. Mr. Brettle is a partner of the eminent city firm bearing his name; as a 
bachelor he lived in the Albany ; he lately married ; and on leaving the Albany 
he discovered how his valet had plundered him. For the defence, Mr. Mew held 
the brief of some friend who had been retained ; and he endeavored by cross- 
examination of Mr. Brettle to elicit some facts of a personal and private nature, 
on which the inference might be founded that the property had been given to 
Moss to procure his silence. Allusion was made to a lady with whom Mr. 
Brettle had intimate relations before his marriage, but who is now dead ; and a 
demand was made for inspection of Mr. Brettle's check-book. After much per- 
sisting, however, it seemed that the defence consisted solely of innuendo; 
nothing was elicited to justify the insinuations; and the jury observed, aloud, 
that the questions had nothing to do with the merits of Moss's defence. Baron 
Martin remarked that he had long entertained the same opinion, but he and the 
jury must give the counsel credit for having some proper object in view; his 
was the responsibility, and if in his discretion he thought fit to persevere, the 
court could not prevent him. Mr. Mew stated that he was acting strictly from 
his instructions ; and he averred that it was important these questions should be 
answered. 

"The foreman of the jury (with warmth). — 'I can only say, I would much 
rather be robbed by my servant to any amount, and say nothing about it, than 
get into that box as a witness, if I am to be subjected to an examination into all 
my private affairs by the counsel for the prisoner.' 

" Mr. Mew still insisted upon looking at the counterfoils and the check-books. 

" Mr. Ballantine, the counsel for the prosecution, said that he thought before 
one gentleman took upon himself to examine the private check-book of another 
gentleman, he ought at least to state what was his object in doing so. 

" Mr. Baron Martin said he had already given an opinion upon the subject of 
the course of cross-examination, and he must leave the matter to the learned 
counsel's own sense of propriety and discretion. 

" Mr. Mew then sat down, without asking any further questions. 

" The case went to its conclusion, and the prisoner was found guilty. The 
jury unanimously resolved to express, through their foreman, their extreme dis- 
approbation of the manner in which the defence had been conducted by the 
counsel for the prisoner, and to state their opinion that such a line of defence is 
calculated to defeat the ends of justice, by deterring persons from coming forward 
with evidence against servants who have robbed them. Mr. Baron Martin stig- 
matized the offence as very abominable ; there had not appeared the slightest 
justification for the defence : no doubt the prisoner had possessed himself of the 
check-books for the purposes of extortion by making known matters that had 
occurred before the marriage of the prosecutor. Sentence, transportation for 
ten years. 

" Mr. Mew again explained that he held the brief for an absent friend, and 



256 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

counsel learned in the law, who, however criminal or obviously 
convicted his client may stand at the bar of justice, shall still 
watch that the prisoner receive nothing but what the law 
decrees, and enjoy all the advantages which the law may 
positively grant or not positively withhold. In order to obtain 
this important end, it is necessary that every advocate consider 
himself pledged to grant his service's to whomsoever may 
apply for them. The " custom" of the English bar, settled by 
repeated decisions of the bar itself, is to accept any retainer 
as it comes. It is considered " ungentlemanly" not to do it, 
unless there be particular and urgent reasons for declining, 
such as abhorrence of the very principle to be established. 
It happened in Erskine's life that he was retained for " the 
First Regiment of Guards ;" but it was found that the " First 
Regiment of Guards" is no legal person that can appear in 
court. It became necessary, therefore, to drop the name of 



that he had acted only on his instructions ; he urged that if there were any blame 
it should not fall on him, but on the person who prepared the instructions. 

" Mr. Baron Martin said he had intimated during the trial that the course 
which was taken was an improper one, and he still entertained the same opinion. 
Counsel are not bound to act upon instructions where it is evident that they are 
of an improper description; but it is their duty to exercise a discretion in such 
matters; and if they fail to do so, a great deal of that confidence which subsists 
between the judges and counsel will be destroyed. If he had been concerned 
in such a case, whether for a friend or on his own account, he should certainly 
have felt it his duty to refrain from acting upon such instructions, or from making 
use of such materials as had been furnished for the defence of the prisoner in 
this case." 

The following happened at another time: Harrison, a grocer at Brixton who 
kept a receiving-house, was convicted of stealing a post letter containing a check 
for 16/. The check was cashed on the afternoon on which it was posted; and 
the prisoner paid away two five-pound notes which were given by the bankers 
in change for the check. The attempt at defence, by Mr. Ballantine, was rather 
remarkable. He insinuated that the letter might have been stolen by the man 
who carried the letter-bag from Brixton to London — a very improbable sugges- 
tion, as no explanation was attempted of the manner in which one at least of the 
notes came into Harrison's possession the same evening; nor was any evidence 
offered against the letter-carrier. Both Mr. Baron Alderson and Mr. Justice 
Coleridge checked the counsel in his reckless course ; and on the second inter- 
ference of the bench, Mr. Ballantine desisted from his charge against the letter- 
carrier. The sentence was two years' imprisonment. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 257 

the First Regiment of Guards and to substitute the names of 
individual officers. The attorney of the opposite party sent 
at once his retainer to Erskine ; for he was no longer retained 
by the regiment and not yet again retained by the persons sub- 
stituted for it ; and, however distasteful to the great advocate 
this particular case happened to be, he declared — and it is the 
general opinion in England — that it is one of the most im- 
portant rights of the subject, that every advocate must allow 
himself to be retained, so long as he is not retained by the 
opposite side. 

If an advocate happen to know the foulness of a transaction 
which he is called upon to defend, he must decline ; but, in 
doing so, the utmost circumspection and a very high degree 
of conviction are requisite ; for he must not forget that by his 
declining he in a degree prejudges a case still to be tried. It 
is in this sense, I believe, that we must understand the words 
of Tronchet, the counsel of Louis XVI. , when at the bar of 
the Convention. Tronchet said, " Every man thus publicly 
called upon to defend an accused person cannot decline his 
services without taking upon himself the responsibility of pro- 
nouncing a judgment — precipitate [his word is temeraire\ 
before the examination of the case, and barbarous after it." 

There is no fairer occurrence in our Revolution than the 
defence of the British soldiers who had killed and wounded a 
number of citizens at the tumult in Boston, on the 5th of 
March, 1770. Their bold defenders at the bar of justice were 
John Adams and Mr. Quincy, both young and ardent patriots, 
and for that reason implored by the father of the latter not to 
defend " murderers." They simply answered that the soldiers 
had not yet been tried ; and in doing so they may have shown 
more courage than Socrates did when he defended Theramenes ; 
for it requires greater resolution to face the indignation of 
your fellow-patriots or of your own family than to brave the 
power of hated tyrants. 

It was noble when M. de Martignac, dismissed from the 
ministry by Prince Polignac, nevertheless defended the latter 
after the revolution of 1830, because called upon to do so by 
Vol. I.— 17 



258 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Polignac when arraigned before the peers. All this is as it 
ought to be ; but the advocate is not therefore absolved from 
moral obligations, as the barrister in the case alluded to must 
have presumed. 1 

If advocates were the only persons on earth who stand ab- 
solved from the obligations of truth, morality, and justice, 
society would have placed itself under a very absurd despotism, 
and their whole order ought speedily to be abolished. It is, 
on the contrary, a fact that the institution of the advocate 
exists everywhere along with civil liberty, and is indispensable 
to it : 2 therefore, let them be gentlemen. 

The prosecuting officer, on the other hand, must not forget 
that the indicted person is placed in his power, which he may 
abuse seriously, scandalously, and in an ungentlemanly manner, 
as history most amply shows ; that the prisoner is yet to be 
tried; that the object of the trial is justice, not to oppress, 
worry, or hunt down the prisoner, or to asperse his character 
so foully that, though he may be acquitted, his reputation may 
be ruined for life, and that too, perhaps, merely by insinuations. 



1 The case alluded to is one I have now suppressed. 

2 I have dwelt on this subject more at length in the chapters on the Judge, 
Jury, and Advocate, in Political Ethics. The enemies of civil liberty know well 
the importance of the institution of the advocate for civil liberty. Archbishop 
Laud and Earl Strafford show, in their correspondence, the most inveterate hatred 
against lawyers, without whom, they confess to each other, it would be easy to 
establish the king's " absolute" sovereignty, their adored idol ; and Duclos (page 
335, vol. 76, of Collect, des Memoires, second series) says, that the foreign min- 
isters applauded, in the name of their masters, the regent, Duke of Orleans, for 
having repressed ces legistes (in 17 18), that is, having incarcerated three presi- 
dents of the Parliament. Laud and Strafford, however, ought not to have for- 
gotten those lawyers who, as Audley, successor to Sir Thomas More, urged it as 
a claim to promotion, " had willingly incurred all manner of infamy to serve the 
government." 

Previous to my writing the Character of the Gentleman, I had dwelt on the 
duties of the advocate in my Political Ethics and in my Legal and Political 
Hermeneutics. Since then I have endeavored clearly to fix the position of the 
lawyer in the great politics of modern free nations and to ascertain the bound- 
aries of their privileges derived from it, in my Civil Liberty and Self-Government, 
where I speak of the high position of the advocate as one of the guarantees of 
our Anglican liberty. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 259 

In the course of your studies you will find instances of what 
I say in Sir Edward Coke and in Bacon — him who would 
never have been so deplorably wrecked, that he saved little 
more than immortal fame of intellect, had he felt like a gentle- 
man instead of cringing before a James and fawning upon a 
Buckingham, being ready for their least commendable work. 
Bacon was, unfortunately, void of dignity and honor. 1 Earl 
Strafford said after his trial for high treason, " Glynne and 
Maynard have used me like advocates, but Palmer and White- 
locke like gentlemen, and yet left out nothing that was material 
to be urged against me." Does not every one understand at 
once what he meant ? And do not my hearers feel that 
Strafford himself in uttering these words felt that fairness and 
liberality of judgment which is " becoming a gentleman" ? It 
seems to me that the opening speech of Mr. Clifford, Attorney- 
General of Massachusetts, on the trial of Professor Webster 
for the murder of Dr. Parkman, in 1850, was a model of good 
sense and propriety in this respect. 

Do not believe that you will lastingly promote even your 
worldly interest as lawyers by any infraction of the strictest 
rules of a gentlemanly conduct. Every advocate of experi- 
ence, I venture to say, will tell you that a fairly established 
reputation as a gentleman will be an efficient agent in pro- 
moting your career as advocates. 

Is it necessary to dwell on the disastrous consequences to 
the law, justice, and security of the citizen, to liberty and 



1 With sadness, indeed, we find a new and appalling confirmation of Pope's 
" greatest, meanest of mankind," in the lately renewed inquiry into the trial of 
the Countess of Somerset for the murder of Overbury : The Great Oyer of 
Poisoning : the Trial of the Earl of Somerset for the Poisoning of Sir Thomas 
Overbury, etc. By Andrew Amos. London, 1846. 

Since the preceding lines of this note were written, two works have made their 
appearance — Mr. Spedding's edition of Bacon's Works, and Mr. Hepworth 
Dixon's Personal History of Lord Bacon, from Unpublished Papers — both con- 
sidered by many persons, it would seem, as presenting Bacon in such a light 
that, as the latter author says, " The lie, it may be hoped, is about to pass away." 
Every gentleman will rejoice if by these efforts Bacon's memory shall be again 
rehabilitated among that of gentlemen ; but I doubt whether the attempt has 
been, so far, successful. 



2 6o ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

truth, when the judge, that eminently essential, high, and 
peculiar functionary in our civil systems, swerves from the 
path of a high-minded gentleman ? Is it necessary to recall 
to your memory the conduct of the Stuart judges, " ruffians 
in ermine" ? Is it necessary to point out that in some respects 
the judge has far greater discretionary power in our system, 
and must have it, than in many other governments, because he 
must be independent, and that for this reason he must, in the 
spirit of a gentleman, self-limit this power? 

The healing art stands no less in need of being practised by 
gentlemen than the law. In no profession is a constant acting 
upon the strictest principles of gentlemanliness more indis- 
pensable in a general point of view, as well as with especial 
reference to professional success, than in the practice of medi- 
cine and surgery. We know, indeed, that there have been 
physicians of eminence who have signalized themselves alike 
by professional skill and commensurate success on the one 
hand, and offensive bluntness on the other; but we know, too, 
that instead of following out their noble mission of alleviating 
suffering in all its details, they have wantonly added to the 
affliction of their patients, and that the very highest degree 
of skill and knowledge was requisite to counterbalance the 
evil consequences of their ungentlemanly manners. I speak 
of manners only ; for if the physician be void of the principles 
of the gentleman his ruin must be the inevitable consequence. 
The aim of the healing art is to cure or alleviate human 
suffering in this life, in which it is the lot of man to suffer 
much — to heal, as the name imports ; and the medical adviser 
efficiently aids his purely therapeutic efforts by soothing the 
heart of the patient and by comforting the anxious souls of 
those who watch the sick-bed in distress and gloom. I do not 
know that man can appear in a brighter phase than as a physi- 
cian, full of knowledge and skill, calm, careful, bold, and with 
the soothing adjuncts of gentlemanly blandness. The physi- 
cian, moreover, must needs be admitted, not only into the recess 
of the sick-chamber, but very frequently into the recesses of his 
patient's heart, and into the sanctuary of domestic life with its 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 2 6l 

virtues and its failings and frailties. If he do not carry with 
him the standard of the purest honor ; if he takes the slightest 
advantage of his position ; if he fail to keep what he sees and 
hears buried in secrecy as inviolable as that of the confessor ; 
if he expose what must be revealed to him — he falls from his 
high station, and becomes an afflicting injurer and sower of 
evil instead of a comforter, allaying pain and stilling sorrow 
where he can. The effect of a gentlemanly spirit and conse- 
quent manners is even great in that branch of the healing art 
in which you may least expect it — in surgery. I have passed 
months in hospitals, and have had ample opportunity to ob- 
serve the different effects produced upon the patients, though 
soldiers and sailors they were, during serious operations, even 
the amputation of limbs, by kindly, gentlemanly surgeons, and 
by those who chilled their victim's heart with gruff words or 
handled him with hasty and mechanic hands. How grate- 
fully do the poverty-stricken remember a kind word of the 
physician under whose care they have been in the hospital ! 
How lasting an impression of horror does the harshness of 
those physicians produce who make the patient bitterly feel 
his poverty in wealth and friends, in addition to his bodily 
pain and an aching heart ! 

Some of you, no doubt, will become editors of newspapers. 
The journal has become a prominent agent of modern civiliza- 
tion, and the editor holds great power in comparison with his 
fellow-citizens. He daily speaks to many ; he can reiterate ; 
he is aided by the greater weight which, however unfounded 
the opinion may be, is attached by the minds of almost all 
men to everything printed, over that which is merely spoken; 
and he is sure that the contradiction of what he states will 
not run precisely in the same channels through which the first 
assertion was conveyed. All this, and the consideration that 
the daily repeated tone in which a paper publishes or discusses 
the many occurrences of the day produces a sure effect upon 
the general tone of the community, ought to warn an editor 
that if the obligations of a gentleman are binding upon any 
one, they are indubitably so upon him. The evil influence 



262 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

which some papers in our country, very active but very un- 
gentlemanly in their tone and spirit, have already exercised 
upon our community, cannot be denied. Let me in addition 
point out one especial application of the general duty of 
editors always to conduct their papers as gentlemen : I mean 
the abstaining from unauthorized publication of private letters, 
confidential conversations, and, in general, from any exposure 
of strictly private affairs. The publishing of private letters, 
indelicately authorized by those to whom they are addressed, 
is a failing of more frequent occurrence in this than in any 
other country ; and no gentlemanly editor will give his aid in 
thus confounding public and private life, deteriorating public 
taste and trespassing upon a sacred right of others, as clearly 
pronounced and protected by positive law, as it obviously 
flows from the nature of the case — the distinct rule that the 
writer's consent is necessary for a lawful publication of letters. 1 
It was necessary to mention this palpable infraction of a gen- 
tlemanly conduct ; but it is so obvious a deviation from the 
regard which one gentleman owes to another, that, once being 
mentioned, I hold it to be unnecessary to say anything more 
about it. 

That the universal obligation of veracity is emphatically 
binding upon the editor is evident, but it does not belong 
exclusively to the subject of gentlemanly conduct. The obli- 
gation of truthfulness is as general, and as necessary for the 
individual and society, as the requisite of light is for the life 
of nature. 

Officers of the army and the navy are everywhere expected 
to conduct themselves as gentlemen towards one another, and 
ought to be gentlemen in the truest sense of the term towards 



1 There is an interesting account of the decisions and the law, as it now stands 
in England, on the Copyright of Private Letters, appended by the Bishop of 
Llandaff to the Letters of the Earl of Dudley, new edition, London, 1841. For 
the general reader it may be stated here that he will find in Lord Campbell's 
Lives of the Lord Chancellors, vol. v. p. 54, Life of Lord Hardwicke, the first 
case, Pope v. Curte, in which it was settled that the writer of a letter retains his 
copyright in it — in other words, that it cannot lawfully be published without his 
consent. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 263 

every one out of the army and navy, man or woman, lady or 
seamstress, as well as towards the men under their command. 
The practice of the high attribute of the gentleman, that he 
allows his subordinates or the weak to feel his power as little 
as is consistent with duty, is not only elevating to the officer, 
but, in a point of common expediency, highly profitable. 
Soldiers and sailors, like all other human beings, honor, and, 
when the trial comes, cling to the man who has habitually 
treated them in a gentlemanly way. There was a time — not 
even half a century ago — when in all armies except the French 
it was believed that caning and flogging were the best means 
of discipline. Prussia, soon after her defeat in the year 1806, 
profiting by the example of her victors, abolished the dis- 
graceful stick — though not without the loudest protests of the 
" conservatives" — and rapidly raised the army punishments 
from the infliction of mere physical pains, more and more to 
those that appeal to honor and morality, the king declaring, 
each time a change was made, by royal decree, that the last 
improvement of the military punishment had so far improved 
the spirit of the army that a further improvement was admis- 
sible ; until at last punishment in that army may be said to 
have become wholly unbrutalized. England has not followed 
this marked improvement of our race as much as is desired 
by many, because, as the Duke of Wellington publicly de- 
clared, the British army is composed of enlisted men, often 
the scum of society ; but before Sebastopol the British officers 
were ashamed of the cat-o'-nine-tails in presence of the French ; 
and Admiral Collingwood, called the strictest disciplinarian of 
the navy, never ceased to protest against flogging in the navy, 
during his whole protracted command of the Mediterranean 
fleet in the times of Napoleon. 1 I know nothing individual 
of the officer who as quietly as on parade went down with his 
soldiers under arms in rank and file, in the Birkenhead ; but 
I conclude he must have habitually treated his men like a 



1 See Public and Private Correspondence of the Vice-Admiral Collingwood, 
with Memoirs of his Life. Third edition. London, 1828. 



264 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

gentleman. Such command over men at such an hour re- 
quires more than a commission. 

The character of the gentleman in the sphere of political 
action, or in all that can be called public life, is one of far 
the most important topics belonging to our subject. If entire 
instructive books have been written on the citizen, it would be 
neither an unprofitable nor an ungrateful task to write an 
entire volume on the character of the gentleman as citizen. 
I shall merely mention some points. 

The greater the liberty is which we enjoy in any sphere of 
life, the more binding, necessarily, becomes the obligation of 
self-restraint, and, consequently, the more important become 
all the rules of action which flow from our reverence for the 
pure character of the gentleman — an importance which is en- 
hanced in the present period of our country, because one of 
its striking features, if I mistake not, is an intense and general 
attention to rights without a parallel and proportionately clear 
perception of corresponding obligations. But right and obli- 
gation are twins : they are like the binary flames of Castor 
and Pollux, which the sailors of the Mediterranean consider 
as a sure sign of fair weather and prosperous winds; but if 
one alone is seen illumining the yard's end, the mariner fears 
foul weather and danger. Right and obligation are each 
other's complements, and cannot be severed without under- 
mining the ethical ground on which we stand — that ground 
on which alone civilization, justice, virtue, and real progress 
can build enduring monuments. Right and obligation are 
the warp and the woof of the tissue of man's moral, and 
therefore, likewise, of man's civil life. Take out the one, and 
the other is in worthless confusion. We must return to this 
momentous principle, the first of all moral government, and, 
as fairness and calmness are two prominent ingredients in the 
character of the gentleman, it is plain that this reform must 
be materially promoted by a general diffusion of a sincere 
regard for that character. Liberty, which is the enjoyment 
of unfettered action, necessarily leads to licentiousness, with- 
out an increased binding power within ; for liberty offers to 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 26$ 

man, indeed, a free choice of action, but it cannot absolve him 
from the duty of choosing what is right, fair, liberal, urbane, 
and handsome. 

Where there is freedom of action, no matter in what region 
or what class of men, there always have been, and must be, 
parties, whether they be called party, school, sect, or " faction." x 
These will often act the one against the other ; but, as a matter 
of course, they are not allowed to dispense with any of the 
principles of morality. The principle that everything is per- 
mitted in politics is so shameless and ruinous to all, that I 
need not dwell upon it here. But there are a great many acts, 
as has been stated before, which, though it may not be pos- 
sible to prove them wrong according to the strict laws of 
ethics, nevertheless appear at once as unfair, not strictly honor- 
able, ungentlemanlike ; and it is of the utmost importance to 
the essential prosperity of a free country that these acts should 
not be resorted to ; that in the minor or higher assemblies and 
in all party struggles, even the intensest, we ought never to 
abandon the standard of the gentleman. It is all-important 
that parties keep in " good humor," as Lord Clarendon said 
of the whole country. One deviation from fairness, candor, 
decorum, and " fair play" begets others and worse in the op- 
ponent, and from the kindliest difference of opinion to the 
fiercest struggle of factions, sword in hand, is but one un- 
broken gradual descent, however great the distance may be ; 
while few things are surer to forestall or arrest this degener- 
acy than a common and hearty esteem of the character of the 
gentleman. 

We have in our country a noble example of calmness, 
truthfulness, dignity, fairness, and urbanity — constituents of 
the character which we are considering — in the father of our 
country ; for Washington, the wise and steadfast patriot, was 
also the high-minded gentleman. When the malcontent 
officers of his army informed him that they would lend him 



1 In the conclave the cardinals used to divide into Spanish, French, etc., fac- 
tions, i.e. parties ; possibly they do so still. 



266 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

their support if he were willing to build himself a throne, he 
knew how to blend the dictates of his oath to the common- 
wealth, and of his patriotic heart, with those of a gentlemanly 
feeling towards the deluded and irritated. In the sense in 
which we take the term here, it is not the least of his honors 
that, through all the trying periods and scenes of his remark- 
able life, the historian and moralist can write him down, not 
only as Washington the Wise, not only as Washington the 
Pure and Single-minded, not only as Washington the Perse- 
vering and Tenacious, but also as Washington the Gentleman. 
If in a country of varied, quick, and ardent political action 
and manifold excitement, in which changes and new combi- 
nations must often take place, the standard of the high-bred 
gentleman is abandoned, the effect is as baneful as that of a 
prying and falsifying secret police in despotic governments. 
Mr. Ranke relates, in his" History of the Popes, that the ut- 
most caution of each towards every one prevailed in Rome, 
because no one knew how he might stand with his best friend 
in a year's time. The same destruction of confidence and 
mutual reliance must spread over the land where freedom 
reigns but a gentlemanly character does not at the same time 
prevail. Lord Shaftesbury, the brilliant, energetic, and reck- 
less Alcibiades of English history, rigidly observed the rule, 
during all his tergiversations, " that he never betrayed the 
secrets of a party he had left, or made harsh personal obser- 
vations on the conduct of his old friends — not only trying to 
keep up a familiar private intercourse with them, but abstain- 
ing from vindictive reflections upon them in his speeches or 
his writings." 1 This observance and his Habeas Corpus Act 
go far with us in redeeming the character of this profligate 
and unprincipled statesman. If you wish to see the disastrous 
effects of a general destruction of confidence and mutual re- 



1 Lord Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, vol. iii. p. 290. I am aware that 
Sir Samuel Romilly took a somewhat different view of the blending of private 
intercourse with political opposition, as appears from his Life and Correspond- 
ence by his son ; but I believe the difference is more seeming than real, to judge 
him by his own life. 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 2 6y 

liance, you must study Spanish history ; for I believe that 
the worst effect of the Inquisition has been the total change 
of the Spanish national character. Even dukes became spies, 
and that once noble nation was filled with truculent suspicion, 
in the dark shades of which the character of the gentleman 
cannot prosper. 

I must not omit making mention at least of the importance 
of a gentlemanly spirit in all international transactions with 
sister nations of our race — and even with tribes which follow 
different standards of conduct and morality. Nothing seems 
to me to show more undeniably the real progress which 
human society has made than the general purity of judges, 1 
together with the improvement of the whole administration 
of justice, so far at least as the leading nations are concerned, 
and the vastly improved morals of modern international in- 
tercourse, holding diplomatic fraud and international trickery, 
bullying, and pettifogging, as no less unwise than immoral. 
History, and that of our own times especially, teaches us that 
nowhere is the vaporing braggart more out of place, and the 
true gentleman more in his proper sphere, than in conducting 
international affairs. Fairness on the one hand, and collected 
self-respect on the other, will frequently make matters easy, 
where swaggering taunt, or reckless conceit and insulting folly, 
may lead to the serious misunderstanding of entire nations, 
and a sanguinary end. The firm and dignified carriage of our 
senate, and the absence of petty passions or vain-gloriousness 
in the British parliament, have brought the Oregon question 
to a fair and satisfactory end — an affair which but a short 
time ago was believed by many to be involved in difficulties 
which the sword alone was able to cut short. Even genuine 



1 I have lived for long periods in Italy, Germany, France, England, and the 
United States, and never heard, in the four last-mentioned countries, of a judge 
suspected of bribery. Yet only a short period has elapsed since satire and comedy 
teemed with the standing subjects of bribed judges, criminal advocates, and irk- 
some wedlock; and Lord Campbell, in the work cited in the preceding note, 
says, " England, during the Stuart reigns, was cursed by a succession of ruffians 
in ermine, who, for the sake of court-favor, violated the principles of law, the 
precepts of religion, and the dictates of humanity." 



268 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

personal urbanity in those to whom international affairs are 
intrusted is very frequently of great importance for a happy 
ultimate good understanding between the mightiest nations. 

We may express a similar opinion with reference to war. 
Nothing mitigates so much its hardships, and few things de- 
pending upon individuals aid more in preparing a welcome 
peace, than a gentlemanly spirit in the commanders, officers, 
and, indeed, in all the combatants, towards their enemies, 
whenever an opportunity offers itself. Instead of numerous 
instances that might be given, I may add that the mention of 
the names of Prince Eugene and of the Duke of Marlborough 
ought never to be omitted when the progress of civilization 
in connection with this or similar subjects is under discussion. 
It was these two captains that treated their captives of war in 
such a manner that soon a great improvement in the treating 
of prisoners of war was effected all round, became a portion 
of the modern law of war, and forms now one of the charac- 
teristics of our civilization. 1 

I must add, as a fact worthy of notice, that political assassi- 
nation, especially in times of war, was not looked upon in an- 
tiquity as inadmissible; that Sir Thomas More mentions the 
assassination of the hostile captain as a wise measure resorted 
to by his Utopians ; that Queen Elizabeth called Sir Amyas 
Paulet " a dainty fellow," because he was unwilling to lend a 



1 A gentlemanly spirit, of which dignified self-respect and equally dignified 
forbearance, as well as truthfulness, are essential elements, is the basis of a large 
portion of the modern law of nations, in peace as well as war. The law of 
nations is the result of the principle of self-government applied to the intercourse 
of many great nations existing at one and the same time, drawing abreast, like 
Olympic chariot-horses, the car of civilization — that great fact in history which 
constitutes the very opposite to the obsolete idea of a universal monarchy, once 
more recommended in our times from that quarter which is vindicated as the con- 
centration of all civilization. The law of nations requires, before all other things, 
that nations treat and respect one another as equals ; and if I had ever doubted 
that a gentlemanly conduct, even towards the enemy, is an essential element of 
that branch of the law of nations which is called the law and usages of war, 
it would have most clearly presented itself to my mind when I was drawing up 
the code of Instructions for the Government of Armies of the United States in 
the Field, which, revised by proper authority, has been promulgated by the 
President of the United States. 






THE CHARACTER OE THE GENTLEMAN, 



269 



hand in ridding her of the captive Mary, Queen of Scots, and 
Cardinal Retz quietly weighed the expediency of murdering 
Cardinal Mazarin, his successful rival in the civil broils of 
France ; that Charles II. promised, by proclamation, a high 
reward and civil elevation to whomsoever would poison or 
otherwise destroy " that mechanic fellow Cromwell ;" that the 
Commonwealth-men in exile were picked off by assassination ; 
while Charles Fox, during the war with the French, arrested the 
man who offered to assassinate Napoleon, informed the French 
government of the fact, and sent the man out of the country j 1 
and Admiral Lord St. Vincent, the stern enemy of the French, 
directed his secretary to write the following answer to a simi- 
lar offer made by a French emigrant: " Lord St. Vincent has 
not words to express the detestation in which he holds an 
assassin." 2 Fox and Vincent acted like .Christians and gentle- 
men. 3 



1 Pell's Life of Charles James Fox, p. 592. 

2 Tucker, Memoirs of Admiral the Earl St. Vincent, vol. i. p. 203. 

3 Death, as a means of action in politics, be it the death of dangerous individ- 
uals or death on a large scale, as the French used it in the first Revolution, which 
led in turn to the abolition of capital punishment for " political offences" by the 
Provisional government in 1848, must be treated of in political philosophy and 
political ethics. But assassinations of individuals, as of Henry IV., may be 
mentioned here. Sand, the murderer of Kotzebue, and Stapss, who, eighteen 
years old, attempted to kill Napoleon at Schoenbrunn (see the Memoires du 
General Rapp, Paris, 1823, p. 112 et seq.), were enthusiastic youths misled by 
the contemplation of the wrongs inflicted on their outraged country. 

Two years after the publication of the second edition of this essay, a foreign 
paper published in the United States contained an advertisement of fourteen lines, 
offering five hundred dollars reward for the murder of a certain civil officer in 
Baden, and spoke of a Society for the Extirpation of German Princes. The ab- 
surdity of this monstrous advertisement would make it ludicrous, did such deprav- 
ity, even were it nothing worse than depravity of taste, leave room for laughter. 

While these pages are retouching, the papers give us an account of the trial 
of those Italians at Paris who were accused of having allowed themselves to be 
tempted by a couple of hundred dollars, furnished by Mazzini, to assassinate the 
Emperor of the French. Little reliance, however, can be placed on a French 
state trial of this sort, defying as it does the commonest rules of legal investiga- 
tion, and conducted by a government which placed itself over France by breaking 
all oaths and by shedding streams of blood. Absolute governments, newly estab- 
lished, often stand in need of conspiracies, to frighten the people and tighten the 
reins still more conveniently. 



270 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

I have mentioned some cheering characteristics of our 
period, showing an essential progress in our race. I ought 
to add a third — namely, the more gentlemanly spirit which 
pervades modern penal laws. I am well aware that the 
whole system of punition has greatly improved, because men 
have made penology a subject of serious reflection, and the 
utter fallacy of many principles in which our forefathers 
seriously believed has at length been exposed. But it is at 
the same time impossible to study the history of penal law 
without clearly perceiving that punishments were formerly 
dictated by a vindictive ferocity — an ungentlemanly spirit of 
oppression. All the accumulated atrocities heaped upon 
the criminal, and not unfrequently upon his innocent kin, 
merely because he was what now would be gently called " in 
the opposition," make us almost hear the enraged punisher 
vulgarly utter, " Now I have you, and you shall see how I'll 
manage you." Archbishop Laud — essentially not a gentle- 
man, but a vindictive persecutor of every one who dared to 
differ from his coarse views of State and Church — presided in 
the Star-Chamber and animated its members when Lord 
Keeper Coventry pronounced the following sentence on Dr. 
Alexander Leighton, a Scottish divine, for slandering prelacy : 
" That the defendant should be imprisoned in the Fleet during 
life, should be fined ten thousand pounds, and, after being de- 
graded from holy orders by the high commissioners, should 
be set in the pillory in Westminster — there be whipped — after 
being whipped, again be set in the pillory — have one of his 
ears cut off — have his nose slit — be branded in the face with 
a double S. S., for a Sower of Sedition — afterwards be set in 
the pillory in Cheapside, and there be whipped, and, after being 
whipped, again be set in the pillory and have his other ear cut 
off" The whole council agreed. There was no recommenda- 
tion for pardon or mitigation. The sentence was inflicted. 
Could a gentleman have proposed or voted for so brutal an 
accumulation of pain, insult, mutilation, and ruin, no matter 
what the fundamental errors prevailing in penal law then were ? 
Nor have I selected this from other sentences for its peculiar 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 2 yi 

cruelty. Every student of history knows that they were 
common at the time against all who offended authority even 
unknowingly. Stubbs, a divine in the reign of Queen Eliza- 
beth, was sentenced to have his right hand cut off, because, 
when the marriage of the queen with a French prince was 
discussing, he had ventured to express, in a pamphlet, his fears 
of the danger to which the queen would expose herself in 
possible child-bed, on account of her age. She was then be- 
tween forty and fifty. Yet, when the executioner had severed 
his right hand, he waved his hat with the remaining left, and 
exclaimed, " Long live the queen !" Compare the spirit which 
could overwhelm a victim with such brutality, and the brand- 
ing, pillory, and whipping still existing in some countries, with 
the spirit of calmness, kindness, yet seriousness and dignity, 
which pervades a punitory scheme such as the Pennsylvania 
eremitic penitentiary system, which, for the very reason that 
it is gentlemanly, is the most impressive and penetrating, and 
therefore the most forbidding of all. 

Let me barely allude to the duties of the gentleman in those 
countries in which slavery still exists. Plato says, 1 genuine 
humanity and real probity are brought to the test by the be- 
havior of a man to slaves, whom he may wrong with impu- 
nity. He speaks like a gentleman. Although his golden 
rule applies to all persons whom we may offend or grieve with 
impunity, and although the fair and reluctant use of every 
power which we may possess over others is one of the truest 
tests of the gentleman, yet it is natural that Plato should have 
made the treatment of the slave the peculiar test, because 
slavery gives the greatest power. Cicero says we should not 
use slaves otherwise than we do our day-laborers. 2 I have just 
stated that the forbearing use of power is a sure attribute of 
the true gentleman ; indeed, we may say that power, physical, 
moral, purely social or political, is one of the touchstones of 
genuine gentlemanliness. The power which the husband has 
over his wife, in which must be included the impunity with 

1 De Legibus, lib. vi., edit. Bipont., viii. 203. 

2 De Officiis, xiii. 



272 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

which he may be simply unkind to her ; that of the father over 
his children ; the teacher over his pupils ; the old over the 
young, and the young over the aged ; the strong over the weak ; 
the officer over his men ; the master of a vessel over his hands ; 
the magistrate over the citizen ; the employer over the em- 
ployed ; the rich over the poor; the educated over the unlet- 
tered ; the experienced over the confiding ; the keeper of a 
secret over him whom it concerns ; the gifted over the ordi- 
nary man ; even the clever over the silly — the forbearing and 
inoffensive use of all this power or authority, or a total absti- 
nence from it, where the case admits of it, will show the 
gentleman in a plain light. Every traveller knows at once 
whether a gentlemanly or a rude officer is searching his trunk. 
But the use of power is not the only touchstone ; even the 
manner in which an individual enjoys certain advantages over 
others is a test. No gentleman will boast of the delights of 
superior health in presence of a languid patient, or speak of 
great good luck when in hearing of a man bent by habitual 
misfortune. Let a man who happily enjoys the advantages of 
a pure and honest life speak of it to a fallen, criminal fellow- 
being, and it will soon be seen whether he be, in addition to his 
honesty, a gentleman or not. The gentleman does not need- 
lessly and unceasingly remind an offender of a wrong he may 
have committed against him. He can not only forgive, he can 
forget ; and he strives for that nobleness of soul and manliness 
of character which impart sufficient strength to let the past be 
truly past. He will never use the power which the knowl- 
edge of an offence, a false step, or an unfortunate exposure of 
weakness give him, merely to enjoy the act of humiliating 
his neighbor. A true man of honor feels humbled himself 
when he cannot help humbling others. 

The subject which I have chosen covers so extensive a 
ground that it is difficult to break off, or to treat of all the 
most important points. Give me leave, then, to refer to but 
one more subject of practical importance, before I shall address 
to you my concluding remarks. It is the subject of deriding 
others, so natural to untutored minds, yet so inconsistent with 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



273 



a truly gentlemanly spirit, because so painful, and generally 
so undeservedly painful, to those who are the objects of our 
deriding smiles. A little reflection will show you that they 
are not in harmony with that genuine good nature, and still 
less conformable to that refinement of feeling, which charac- 
terize the gentleman. Perhaps it will appear that he who 
laughs at others shows that he deserves our pity more than 
the person laughed at. The Koran says, " Do not mock thy 
neighbor: the mocked may be better than the mocker." 
There is no subject in the whole province of psychology 
which offers greater difficulties to the philosopher, possibly 
none that offers difficulties so great, as that of laughing and 
the ridiculous. You will find that we feel tempted to smile, 
sometimes, even when our soul is filled with horror. There 
is always something risible in the Blue Beards, and, strange 
to say, the highest degree of horror frequently causes physi- 
cal convulsive laughter. 1 We ought, then, to take care not to 
be betrayed into an act so little understood, when done at the 
cost of another, who may feel pained or humbled by our in- 
advertence. We may further say that everything novel, which 
does not at once strike us as grand, sublime, or awful, inclines 
us first of all to smile. The advanced state of my address pre- 
vents me from giving you instances. You can easily, however, 
provide them for yourselves. But, if the fact is as I have 
stated, you will readily see that the smiling, caused by every- 
thing novel, betrays as often our own ignorance as a fair cause 
of risibility. You ought, moreover, to remember that every 
human action perceptible by the senses, and which strikes us 
at all, causes us to laugh, if we are unacquainted with its 
antecedents, or if we see it out of connection, unless an expe- 



1 We are here reminded even of the sardonic smile. Laughter, so distinguish- 
ing a feature of man, and so closely interwoven with literature, with civilization, 
and with ethnography, for some races are more cachinnatory than others — the 
negroes and Indians occupying apparently the two ends of the scale — laughter, 
I say, seems nevertheless unexplained, even more so than disgust, that " mystic 
union between imagination and the stomach." I know of no profound physi- 
ology of laughter, not even of a sound chapter on this remarkable subject. 
Vol. I.— 18 



274 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



rienced mind and vivid imagination quickly supply the ante- 
cedents, or a well-trained mind abstain from laughing at others, 
or at striking objects, as a general rule. Here, again, the 
ridiculous is not inherent in the phenomenon, but is owing to 
him who laughs. To see, but not to hear, persons singing, is 
to all untutored minds ridiculous. Suddenly to find a man 
vehemently speaking and gesticulating strikes us as laughable ; 
while, had we been present from the beginning, he might thrill 
our souls by those very tones and gestures. Even marks of 
the tenderest affection fare no better in this respect ; and what 
is more common than the laughing of the uneducated at the 
accent of those who, nevertheless, may have used great dili- 
gence and study to make themselves well understood in an 
idiom, all the difficulties of which they are not able to over- 
come, because they have not learned it on their fathers' knees 
or kissed it from their mothers' blessing lips, and most willingly 
would speak to you, did it depend upon them, without any 
of those deviations at which you may smile ! We frequently 
laugh at acts of our neighbors. Did we know all the antece- 
dents, their whole education, their checkered lives, we should 
probably find nothing to smile at, and at times these very acts 
might make us weep instead. It is a rule, therefore, of much 
practical importance for the gentleman, never to laugh at others 
unless their pretensions deserve it; but if he, in turn, be 
laughed at, he will remember that it is a common failing from 
which he has not always remained free, that placid good nature 
is a signal attribute of the gentleman, and that, if he have 
given real cause for laughter, there is no better means to 
deprive it of all its sting than freely to join in it. 

I have spoken of laughing at others only, not of laughing 
in general. He that can never heartily laugh can hardly have 
a heart at all, or must be of a heavy mind. A sound laugh 
at the proper time is the happy music of a frank and confiding 
soul. It is the impulsive and spontaneous song which the 
Creator gave to man, and to man alone, in lieu of all the lovely 
tones which he profusely granted to the warblers of the wood. 

But we must return to more serious subjects before I con- 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 2 ?$ 

elude. They shall be treated of in two more remarks, the 
last with which I shall detain you. They will be very brief; 
but, young gentlemen, I invite your whole attention to them. 
Ponder them ; for they are of momentous importance for your 
whole lives — important even to your country. 

" Habit is the best magistrate," was a wise saying of Lord 
Bacon's. Mere mental acknowledgment of moral truth be- 
comes powerless when it is most important to apply it — in 
moments of great temptation, of provocation, or passion. If 
repeated and constant acting upon that truth has not induced 
a habit or grown into a virtue, it may be sufficiently strong to 
produce repentance after the offence, but not to guide before 
the wrong be committed. Apply yourselves, then, sedulously 
at once to act habitually by the highest standard of the gen- 
tleman — to let a truly gentlemanly spirit permeate your being. 
No better opportunity to practise this moral rule is given you 
than your present relation to your teachers. Let a gentle- 
manly tone ever subsist between you. You will thus not only 
make your lives pleasant and sow the seeds of happy reminis- 
cence, but it will give new force and new meaning to the very 
instruction for the reception of which you have come hither, 
and it will best prepare you for establishing that relation which 
is one of the most fruitful and blessed that can subsist between 
man and man : I mean friendship between the teacher and the 
taught — a relation of which we find so touching an example 
in Socrates and his followers, and so holy a model in Christ 
and his disciples — a relation which lends new strength to the 
mind to seize what is offered, and which in a great measure 
overcomes the difficulty of communion between soul and soul. 
For all language, except in mathematics, is but approximation 
to the subject to be expressed, and affection is the readiest and 
truest interpreter of the ever-imperfect human word. Believe 
me, my young friends, however extensive the knowledge of 
your teacher, skilful his language, or ardent his zeal, and how- 
ever close your attention may be, you will hear and learn far 
more if affection towards him enlivens that attention, and you 
will integrate with your very soul that which, without friend- 



2^6 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

ship between you and him, remains matter of purely intellect- 
ual activity, liable to be superseded by successive layers of 
knowledge. 

If thus you make the character of the gentleman more and 
more your own, you will additionally prepare yourselves for 
the high and weighty trusts which await all of you as citizens 
of a commonwealth in which we enjoy a rare degree of per- 
sonal liberty. I have shown you how closely connected the 
character of the gentleman is with a high standard of true 
civil liberty, but it is necessary to direct your mind, in addi- 
tion, to the fact that there are difficulties in the way of attain- 
ing to this high end, peculiar to young Americans, while yet 
it may be one of the problems the solution of which is as- 
signed to us in history, to develop the peculiar character of 
the high-bred republican gentleman in a pervading national 
type, as it has been that of England to develop the character 
of the monarchical gentleman. 

It is difficult for princes to imbibe the true spirit of the 
gentleman, because their position and education naturally lead 
to the growth of selfishness ; and so there are, on the other 
hand, difficulties, not insuperable, yet positive in the way of 
carefully cultivating this character, peculiar to a country like 
ours, in which large numbers are constantly rolling westward 
and changing their dwellings, neighbors, and associations ; in 
which a degree of success, in a worldly view, awaits almost 
with certainty health, industry, and prudence, without neces- 
sarily requiring the addition of refinement of feelings or polish 
of conduct; and in which at the same time a greater amount 
of individual liberty is enjoyed than in any other country. 
Suffrage is almost universal, and, so far as the vote goes, all 
have equal weight : you see some persons rise to distinction, 
without any high claim to morality, religion, or gentlemanli- 
ness ; and the power-holders, whether they be monarchs or 
the people, a few or many, ever listen to flattery. It is inherent 
in power ; and it is a common belief — though I am convinced 
of the contrary — that large masses are not flattered by gentle- 
manliness. Even if it were so, we should have no right to 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 277 

sacrifice so important a moral standard. Are we allowed to 
do any evil which we may yet be fully persuaded would pro- 
mote our worldly interest ? Is it ever safe, even in a purely 
prudential point of view, to be guided by secondary motives, 
when conduct and the choice of objects, not the selection of 
means, are the question ? But, happily, it is not so. Even 
the least educated have an instinctive regard for the high-bred 
gentleman, however they may contemn certain counterfeits of 
the gentleman, especially the dandy; and the acknowledg- 
ment on the part of a whole community that a man is a gen- 
tleman gives him a hold on it most important in all matters 
of action. Adhere to it. If you see others rise above you 
by practices which you contemn, you must remember that it 
is one of the very attributes of the gentleman to stand alone 
when occasion requires it, in dignity and self-possession, with- 
out conceit, but conscious that he has acted right, honorably, 
gentlemanly. 1 Distrust every one who would persuade you 
to promote your interest by descending. The elementary law 
of all progress, be it religious, mental, political, or industrial, 
is that those who have talent, skill, character, or knowledge in 
advance of others should draw these after them and make the 
lower rise. This is the truly democratic law of united advance- 
ment, in which every one leads in whatever he can lead. All 
else is suspicious aristocracy — the aristocracy of a few, or the 
aristocracy of the low, if aristocracy is marked, as I think it 
is, by undue privilege, which is unbefitting to all men, be they 
a few or the many. Scan history, and you will find that 
throughout the annals of civilization this uniform law prevails, 
that a favored mind perceives a truth, gives utterance to it, is 
first disbelieved, derided, or attacked, perhaps called upon to 
seal the truth with his death ; but the truth is not lost on that 
account : it infuses itself into the minds of the very detractors ; 
it spreads further and further, is discussed and modified; it 



1 The importance of the character of the gentleman in politics, especially in 
legislative bodies and in the Representative in general, has been more fully dis- 
cussed by me in the chapters on the Duties of the Representative in the second 
volume of Political Ethics. 



2 ; 8 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

collects votaries sufficient to form a minority, and at length 
the minority swells into a majority, which ultimately estab- 
lishes the principle in practice : so that the whole process has 
consisted in men being led upwards to the truth, not in truth 
descending downwards to a stagnant level of mediocrity, 
ignorance, or want of civilization. It requires patience and 
gentlemanly forbearance ; but is not God the most patient of 
all ? You cannot point out a single vast movement of man- 
kind towards an essential improvement which does not serve 
as an illustration of the law which I have just stated to you. 

At the very moment of writing these last words, I received 
opportunely the speech of Sir Robert Peel on the 30th of 
June, 1 in which he explains the reasons of his resignation and 
his defeat in parliament, after having happily passed the free 
corn-trade bill ; and as the reader is referred in some works to 
a diagram at the end of the volume, so shall I conclude by 
pointing to that manly speech as a practical illustration of 
much that I have said on the conduct of the gentleman in 
politics. Outvoted in parliament, discarded by the party with 
whom he came into office, and seeing his successor in power, 
influence, and honors before him, he still speaks of his whole 
position, his antagonists, and his former friends, now turned 
into bitter enemies, with calmness, dignity,. and cheerful lib- 
erality, readily allowing that in a constitutional country the 
loss of power ought to be the natural consequence of a change 
of opinion upon a vital party question, that is, upon a subject 
of national magnitude. Yet he rejoices at having thus come 
to different and truer views upon so essential a point as that 
of the daily bread of toiling multitudes, and frankly ascribes 
the chief merit of this momentous progress to a person 2 who 



1 In the year 1846. 

2 Mr. R. Cobden, member of parliament, and leader of the Anti-Corn-Law 
League, has deserved well of mankind. There is but one omission in Sir 
Robert Peel's speech with which we feel tempted to find fault. No one admires 
more than myself Mr. Cobden's wise and energetic course, which, indeed, pro- 
cured him the offer of a place in the cabinet from the Whigs when they were 
forming their new administration ; but even his labors and the arduous exertions 



THE CHARACTER OF THE GENTLEMAN. 



2/9 



belongs to a sphere of politics totally different from that in 
which he himself had been accustomed to move. It is a 
gentlemanly speech, leaving a corresponding impression in his 
own country and throughout ours, conciliating, and command- 
ing esteem — an effect such as always attends a conduct truly 
gentlemanly, where civilization dwells among men. 



of the League would have remained unavailing for a long time yet, as it seems, 
had not divine wisdom sent at this precise juncture the potato-rot, and thus aided 
one of the greatest advancements of mankind to come to maturity. The historian 
must mention, together with Cobden and the League, the potato-rot. 

This acknowledgment of Sir Robert Peel's is another evidence of the invalu- 
able usefulness of that greatest of institutions which characterize our own modern 
liberty — principled and persevering opposition, to which Sir Robert Peel bore 
the same striking testimony, when, in 1829, the Catholic Emancipation bill had 
been carried by the Wellington and Peel cabinet, and the latter said, in the 
commons, " One parting word, and I have done. I have received in the speech 
of my noble friend, the member for Donegal, testimonies of approbation which 
are grateful to my soul ; and they have been liberally awarded to me by gentle- 
men on the other side of the house, in a manner which does honor to the for- 
bearance of party among us. They have, however, one and all, awarded to me 
a credit which I do not deserve for settling this question. The credit belongs to 
others, and not to me : it belongs to Mr. Fox, to Mr. Grattan, to Mr. Plunkett, 
to the gentlemen opposite, and to an illustrious and right honorable friend of 
mine who is no more [meaning Mr. Canning] . By their efforts, in spite of my 
opposition, it has proved victorious." And may not be added here, with pro- 
priety, the reforms of the penal code of England, so perseveringly urged by Sir 
Samuel Romilly and Sir James Mackintosh, and at length partially adopted by 
Sir Robert Peel in 1830? 

Wellington — who, in a conversation with Canning on certain statements made 
by the Emperor Nicholas, had said, " I see what you mean ; but could I suppose 

that the fellow was a d liar?" — Wellington, in the House of Lords, in honor 

of Peel's memory, soon after his sudden death, praised above all his truthfulness. 
There may be party men who doubt this ; I state the fact that a soldier and 
statesman like Wellington praised above all other things, in a statesman like 
Peel, his veracity, as a fact deserving to be remembered by all youth of modern 
free countries. 



THE 

NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION. 

AN ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATING CLASS OF SOUTH CAR- 
OLINA COLLEGE, DELIVERED AT THE COMMENCEMENT, 
DECEMBER I, 1851. 



Young Gentlemen, — The trustees, your and my superiors, 
have appointed me to occupy the president's chair for this 
day, and in this capacity it devolves upon me to address to 
you those farewell remarks which it is the appropriate custom 
to deliver to young men in a position in which you now stand 
before me — with the staff in your hand, as it were, to sally 
forth into the broad and open fields of practical life, and 
rugged paths too, there to find your professions, your support, 
your names, your reputations, and that exact place which you 
will occupy in the great social system that surrounds you. 
When this call was made upon me by the board of trustees, 
I thought that it would evince no high degree of public spirit 
were I to decline it. I readily accepted the appointment, but 
I did not do so without anticipating difficulties and embar- 
rassments which I now find surrounding me in their fullest 
extent. 

Remarks, such as I am going to address to you, ought to 
be conveyed with all the impressiveness with which words 
can proceed from mortal lips to mortal ears ; for they are the 
last words which an affectionate teacher, in the name of an 
affectionate institution, addresses to youth who have been 
nursed and nurtured by its care and solicitude. Their im- 
pression ought to be lasting and indelible ; but the impressive- 

281 



282 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

ness of solemn words publicly delivered depends in a measure 
upon the dignity of the speaker. I do not refer to that native 
dignity of thought and word which consists in the fact that 
ideas worthy of the occasion be presented in simple language 
— I mean to take care that my words do not lack this species 
of dignity — but I speak of that incidental yet not inefficient 
dignity which flows from the plentitude of authority and the 
fulness of office. In this I am deficient. You know that I 
do not stand before you fully robed in the mantle of office ; 
but when I consider how long we have walked, hand in hand, 
on the path of knowledge and in the pursuit of truth, I cannot 
help thinking that my words will find an entrance into your 
soul, and there strike some chords that will vibrate long and 
loud. 

But there is another and a greater difficulty. Where, in 
fact, am I standing ? I stand here where an orator has stood 
of wide and high American repute, 1 whose wealthy eloquence 
has often gushed forth from this very spot in all the native 
energy of his Saxon idiom, perfumed with the fragrance of a 
scholar's mind and the aroma of a cultivated taste — a speaker 
whose oratory is yet fondly remembered by the humblest 
classes of our people. It is not more than a twelvemonth 
ago that one of them, as they assemble around the house of 
justice, on judgment days, said, within my hearing, when your 
late president passed by, with his infirm step, with which, un- 
fortunately, you are familiar — pointing at him, the humble 
man said to his neighbors : " That man used to talk like a 
mocking-bird." And may I not add to this graceful testi- 
monial, spontaneous like our grateful jasmine in the unculti- 
vated woods, the words of the greatest Italian poet, when he 
addresses Virgil as "the fount whence issues forth a broad, 
deep stream of speech" ? He used to speak so well ! He 
was a master of the breathing word, while to my tongue still 
cleaves the accent which we receive in our mother's first and 
fondest words. I shall suffer from a constant comparison 



1 The Hon. William Campbell Preston. 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION. 283 

forced upon your minds by the contrast between the words 
you have heard here, and, humanly speaking, ought this day 
to listen to; and the words you will hear in reality. It is 
therefore no phrase of mere civility if I ask for indulgence 
and that kindly ear which you have often lent me in my 
lecture-room, where no comparison detracted from your at- 
tention. Give it to me fully — I mean the attention of your 
soul, not only that of your mind. And, without any further 
words on myself and my difficulties, I proceed to my remarks, 
which I think it proper to impress upon you at this, the last 
hour of our academic relation. 

Young gentlemen and friends, when a parent dismisses a 
child, when friends sever from friends, when a brother leaves 
his sister, or a son parts from his mother, it is the universal 
custom, because founded in our nature, to give a token of re- 
membrance to the parting one — a choice book, a Bible, a ring, 
a jewel, a well-wrought style, a fine weapon — something or 
other which may last and awaken fond remembrances, growing 
in fondness as the separation becomes longer and more distant. 
I, too, will give you a precious jewel at this our parting hour. 
Keep it and let it never be lost by any negligence ; keep it 
bright, and the light which radiates from this precious stone 
will do good to your soul. I have taken it from this casket, 1 
which contains multitudes of jewels, in an inexhaustible treas- 
ury. My jewel is this passage : " Take fast hold of instruc- 
tion ; keep her ; let her not go, for she is thy life." — Take fast 
hold of instruction ; keep her ; let her not go, for she is thy life. 

Instruction is your life, and you are bid to keep it, not to 
let it go, to cling to it, to hug it to your soul like a bridal 
friend. Whether the original Hebrew word, rendered in 
English by the term instruction, means instruction proper, or 
knowledge or wisdom, or chastisement and training with 
teaching, it is the same for my present purpose. It either 
means the knowledge of truth and wisdom flowing from it, or 
it designates the means to obtain this end, and which can have 



A Bible lying near the speaker. 



284 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

value only because it leads to that end. Otherwise, instruction 
could not be called, so forcibly, our life. 

I leave it to the minister and the priest, or to the silent 
meditation in the retired closet, to find out the full spiritual 
sense of this passage. My intention is simply to dwell upon 
a subject connected with the method of keeping knowledge 
and instruction, of not letting them go, and of taking fast hold 
of them. 

You could commit no more fatal error than if you were 
to suppose that, as you leave these academic walls behind 
you, and as you pass through yonder gate, never more to re- 
turn in the same capacity in which you have dwelt among 
us, you may leave your books, and, with them, all further 
pursuit of knowledge, behind you ; that you have now finished 
your education, and that the diploma I have this moment given 
you, in the name of the college, constitutes a dividing mark 
between a period of acquiring knowledge and that of its ex- 
clusive application to practical pursuits. All that we, your 
teachers, could possibly have done, although a very Aristotle 
had been among us, and a nascent Bacon among you, would 
still have been no more than to point out to you which way 
the road lies, to indicate to you what fields are stretching be- 
hind the mountain, which you have not yet been able to climb, 
and to imbue you with a quickening love of truth, as well as 
to teach you the method of pursuing knowledge. More, no 
teacher of the young can do. He can instruct, but the acqui- 
sition of knowledge depends upon you, and must necessarily 
form your chief occupation now as you enter the period of 
manhood. Instruction comes from without, and can be given; 
knowledge must be acquired within, and is obtained by each 
man's own and independent action. For this is, after all, the 
distinction between instruction, information, learning, and even 
erudition on the one hand, and knowledge on the other; that 
the first come from without, and are acquired by a purely mental 
process; but when information is distilled into an essence which 
becomes part and parcel of our soul and self — when it ripens 
into a principle of action — when it becomes a foundation of 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION 285 

wisdom and a light of essential truth, then it is knowledge, 
and then only so. Experience must come to aid its progress 
and maturing ; I mean by experience, not t;he merely passing 
through successive events, however remarkable they may be, 
but the passing through events and changes with observing 
attention, a discriminating eye, and a truthful disposition. 
You see that your self-education, your most essential training, 
now only begins, and must never cease as long as you live, if 
you have resolved to be true to yourselves and are conscious 
that your Maker has not placed you here in order to pass as 
loitering idlers through an unmeaning life, passively determined 
by the world without, instead of aiding in determining it, as 
resolute and good men. There is no such demarcating line 
as is commonly supposed between the so-called self-educated 
man, and him that has had " an education." It is, indeed, of 
great importance whether a boy has the means of going to 
school or not; but as no person can cultivate his mind by his 
own unaided and spontaneous efforts, and without owing his 
culture, in a great measure, to the ideas which are constantly 
exchanging in the society in which he lives, and which reach 
him in a thousand rays from the institutions and labors and 
motive powers of his period ; so, on the other hand, is every 
one that is able, substantial, or distinguished in any sphere, 
be it in the useful or fine arts, or politics, in literature or the 
law, so far as he is prominent and of substantial value, a self- 
educated man, and only able or distinguished so far as self- 
culture has carried him. Without it, instruction glides off 
as a dew-drop from a glossy leaf. Without it, information is 
a garment^not a living part of the body. Go then to work 
and make yourselves men. We have tried to give you the 
chisel; now fashion the marble. Everything henceforth' de- 
pends upon yourselves. But if I have thus placed knowledge 
far above instruction, I feel sure that none of you, who know 
me so well, can think for a moment that I undervalue instruc- 
tion. Far from it. Very much indeed must nowadays be 
learned with unrelaxing perseverance, merely to keep on a 
level with the active and manful thinkers and actors of our 



286 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

time. Besides, instruction is like virtue. You cannot stand 
still. Either you keep increasing them with vigilance and 
zeal, or you fall back. They either grow stronger and wider 
every day, or they wither, shrink, and decay. 

Therefore, take fast hold of knowledge, keep it, let it not 
go, for it is your life. If this behest has been true at any time, 
and with reference to the young and old of any period, it seems 
to me to be peculiarly so at our own epoch. For, if I mistake 
not, we are living in a period of intense and comprehensive 
activity ; a period which possibly resembles the agitated age 
of the Reformation in its universal restlessness, yearning 
and heaving ; in its rearing and acquiring, and destroying and 
exploding; in its doubting, its inquiring temerity, and its re- 
assuring and falling back upon past things ; in its feverish un- 
rest, and lofty, calming comprehensiveness ; in its embittered 
struggles and its enlarging humanity. 

I am well aware that we are ever inclined to consider our 
own age a peculiar and prominently important one, for the 
same reason that the present pain is always the sharpest, and 
the present enjoyment the highest. A mole-hill close before 
the eyes of a resting wanderer on the sward shuts out from 
his sight an entire alpine chain at a distance ; but after all al- 
lowances and due deductions have been made, and reasoning 
with the assumed impartiality of a historian some centuries 
hence, I still believe that your lot has been cast in no period 
of repose, but, on the contrary, in one of great agitation in all 
the spheres of action, knowledge, sympathy, and aspiration. 

Do you turn your eyes to the natural sciences and philoso- 
phy? There you see the Frenchman who points to the 
heavens, and says, In that spot you must find a planet, as far 
beyond Uranus as Uranus is beyond Saturn, at thirty times our 
own distance from the sun. And you find the planet. Or you 
see the German who at length establishes the distance of a 
fixed star — sixty-three billions of miles off, so that it takes 
thousands of years before the ray of light parting from that orb 
can reach the tiny retina of the observer. Or you see the 
geologist reading the rocks in the bowels of the earth like the 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION. 287 

pages of a chronicle, in which it has pleased the Almighty- 
Chronicler to reveal the periods by which he has chosen 
gradually to shape and change, and evoke from successive 
turmoils, this fair earth of his, until it should be fit to receive 
that being whom he intended to be capable of spelling these 
records, and deciphering his own hieroglyphics. Or you see 
the naturalist who discovers millions and myriads of wonder- 
fully organized beings, infinitely varied, in a drop or a single 
cellule of other animals. You see an Agassiz and a Hum- 
boldt, like priests of nature, revealing some of her greatest 
mysteries, showing thought, one thought, the thought of God, 
pervading the universe and its phases. 

Do you turn your eyes to the study of history? There you 
see the Englishman, a very sapper of history, excavating, and, 
with rare sagacity and resolution, unveiling that Nineveh 
which even to the writers of the Old Testament was a place 
of gray antiquity. What an entire volume of history, what 
an epic,, what a tragedy in the Sophoclean sense, it seemed to 
me, when, but a few weeks ago, I daily passed from that 
Crystal Palace — itself a type and symbolization of the broad 
and stirring thoughts, and wide sympathies, which move our 
age — to the British Museum, where I stood and meditated 
before the inscriptions, and sculptures, and gigantic images of 
past, past Nineveh, great and grave as the error was, which 
made millions prostrate themselves before them in groping 
worship, seeking a living God of light in soulless, sable stone. 
Or you see the busy miner of history bringing to light mul- 
titudes of cherished objects from the place where the Athenian 
market was ; for, happily, at last it has been found, that spot 
to which, of all others on the globe, the intensest interest is 
attached — a spot which appears to the imagination of the 
historian radiant like a diamond among coarser and darker 
minerals. Or you perceive every archive ransacked, every 
country, every life of any importance described, and its descrip- 
tion made accessible to the public, while in no previous period 
historic justice, and calm, enlarged views have found so many 
truthful votaries as in our own. 



288 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Or do you turn your eyes to the science of language ? 
Philology, once comprehending two ancient tongues only, 
now takes within one grasp the Sanscrit, the oldest of all, and 
the dialect of the savage, made known to us by the pioneer- 
ing missionary. Philology has risen from the grammar to a 
philosophy of the word — the rind which forms around the 
thought of man when ripening for utterance. Your own 
tongue proves the same, and more, for not only is it studied 
with deeper learning than ever before, but the present period 
is one of renewed and formative vitality, after a protracted 
period of lexical forestalling. 

Or do you behold the application of science to the comforts 
and uses of daily life ? There you find the American, who 
attached the electric spark like a wing to the word, so that we 
may imagine it like a mysterious glow-worm, flitting through 
the distance of a thousand miles with a rapidity too swift for 
human language to express it, and out-racing even the storm; 
reminding us of the worlds in which the minds of Milton and 
Ariosto moved, when they conceived of beings darting through 
the unresisting ether of the universe, rather than of the re- 
sisting and opaque reality which usually surrounds us, and 
grudgingly recedes before the boldest and brightest concep- 
tions of constructive genius. How could I enumerate the most 
important applications only, which in our half century have 
been made, and through which it enjoys a full measure of 
humanizing comfort? 

How could I with justice point out to you the rapidity with 
which many of the most important improvements have ad- 
vanced? In the year 1830 the first railway was laid; in 1838 
the first steam packet crossed the Atlantic ; and in about five 
years later, I left this town to visit my birthplace, and from 
Columbia to Berlin I proceeded on land, river, and sea exclu- 
sively by steam. Indeed you might now leave this spot and 
go to Calcutta, through our own country, across the Atlantic, 
through England, Belgium, Germany, the Adriatic, the Med- 
iterranean, the Red Sea, and the Indian Ocean, around Ceylon, 
and never be carried by any other propelling power than steam, 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION 289 

except, as yet, the short distance across the Isthmus of Suez. 
The word of Galilei, "And yet it moves," has become true in 
more than one sense. 

Who could find the time, and if he could, who possesses 
the memory, to give an account of all the discoveries and in- 
ventions of our century, from the quickly igniting match, 
saving time and saving patience, to that godsend which lulls 
the mangled sufferer into the sleep of a child while surgery 
is stealing a limb from him, and which, separating pain from 
the knife, has given it increased skill and greater boldness ? 
Does any one doubt that had this discovery taken place in 
ancient times, a myth would quickly have formed itself around 
the phial of chloroform, and mythology would tell us how 
^Esculapius was bidden by Jove, when he forgot for a moment 
his thunder-bolts and took compassion upon man with all his 
aches and ailments upon him, to bring it to the sufferers below? 
We do not believe in an ^Esculapius ; we know that no Jove 
has sent the soothing ether ; we simply but fervently thank 
our one God for all his mercies, and for this as one of the 
greatest among them. 

Do you turn your attention to the subject of labor — one 
of the indicative elements of every stage of civilization? You 
will find that one of the most characteristic features of our 
age consists in the close union, the wedlock of Knowledge 
and Labor, and the utmost stretch of productiveness to which 
labor has been carried. Knowledge has become dis-aristocra- 
tized, if I may make a word, and Labor has become dignified. 
So great and searching a change has produced many revolu- 
tions in the whole state of human things, and will produce 
infinitely more — for certain weal in the end, for some woe in 
the transition. I do not maintain that all these changes have 
been directly for the better ; there is no struggle in the course 
of civilization that does not leave its dead and. wounded on 
the battle-field. Nor do I say that the great idea of the dig- 
nity of labor is not carried at times to an extreme, in which 
it appears as a distorted caricature, even to hideousness. We 
need only think of the French communism ; but remember 
Vol. I.— 19 



290 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

how often I have endeavored to impress upon your minds the 
truth that there is no great and working idea in history, no 
impulse which passes on through whole masses, like a heaving 
wave over the sea, no yearning and endeavor which gives a 
marking character to a period, and no new institution or new 
truth which becomes the substantial increase that a certain 
age adds to the stock of progressive civilization, that has not 
its own caricature, and distorted reflection along with it. No 
Luther rises with heroic purpose without being caricatured 
in a Carlstadt. The miracle wrought by Him, to whom i f 
was no miracle, is mimicked in toyish marvels for easy minds. 
The communists are to the dignity of labor what the hideous 
anabaptists were to the Reformation, or tyrannical hypocrites 
in England to the idea of British liberty in a Pym or 
Hampden. There was a truth of elementary importance con- 
veyed in the saying of former ages, however irreverent it may 
appear to our taste, that Satan is the mimicking and grimacing 
clown of the Lord. I will go farther, and say that no great 
truth can be said to have fairly begun to work itself into prac- 
tice, and to produce, like a vernal breath, a new growth of 
things, if we do not observe somewhere this historic carica- 
ture. Has Christianity itself fared better ? Was the first idea, 
which through a series of errors led to the anchorites and pil- 
lar saints, not a true and holy one ? Does not all fanaticism 
consist in recklessly carrying a true idea to an extreme, irre- 
spective of other equally true ones, which ought to be devel- 
oped conjointly, and under the salutary influence of mutual 
modification ? There is truth in the first idea whence the 
communist starts, as much so as there is truth in the idea 
which serves as a starting-post for the advocate of the un- 
godly theory of divine right; but both carry out their funda- 
mental principle to madness, and, ultimately, often run a-muck 
in sanguinary ferocity. Do not allow yourself, then, to be 
misled by these distortions, or to be driven into hopeless 
timidity, which would end in utter irresolution, and a miscon- 
ception of the firmest truths. 

If you direct your attention to the wide sphere of the law, 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION. 29 1 

you will discover the same activity and energy in rearing and 
destroying. Indeed, this, too, is a prominent feature of our 
age. In no period of our race have so many and so compre- 
hensive changes taken place in so short a time. The penal 
code of almost every civilized community has been remodelled. 
The trial has been made more just and fair. An entire new 
science, the science of punition or penology, has been struck 
out. The civil law of the different nations, and their very 
systems of judicature, are daily mending and remodelling. 
The law of nations, that strong cement of peoples, which was 
conceived by the great Grotius, as the science of politics was 
gestated by one man, Aristotle, has much expanded and been 
improved in our times, and is daily uniting more firmly the 
tribes of our race into one fold and one vast commonwealth 
of nations ; and in diplomacy an essential change has been 
wrought, by discussing the conflicting rights and interests of 
nations with entire publicity, of which we have the honor of 
having set the example. 

If you examine the diffusion of knowledge, I had almost 
said the profusion of knowledge, you will find in that sphere, 
too, an unheard-of activity, from the national systems of pri- 
mary education to the enlargement of universities and acad- 
emies, from the analyzer in silent retirement to the boldest 
expeditions, from the traveller in Africa, and the New Eng- 
lander who caused himself to be landed, alone and daring, on 
the shores of Japan, to the polar knight-errant of science, 
persevering with divine obstinacy, which seems to become the 
bolder the more irrevocably it appears to be written on those 
piles of bergs : Thus far and no farther. Then, reflect for a 
moment on the means of spreading knowledge, and of the 
increased communion between men. It almost appears as if 
Guttenberg's sublime conception has been only fulfilled in our 
age ; and along with the widely-spread printing, and the tele- 
graph, which the other day carried a message from New York 
to New Orleans and back again — a distance little short of four 
thousand miles — in a few minutes, we have the penny postage, 
a quickening agent of civilization, scarcely less important than 



292 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

the type. There is no branch of industry or commerce which 
does not receive its beneficial influence, and the affections of 
men are as deeply indebted to Rowland Hill as the busiest 
producers and exchangers. You have parents ; I have chil- 
dren ; and we know the blessed luxury of freely writing to 
those we love without a heavy postage-tax on our affections. 

How is it in agriculture, in commerce? Can you forget 
that you live in that half century which has recovered Free 
Trade, and will you ever forget what I have taken pains to 
prove to you, that Free Trade is nothing more than the 
Christian's peace and good will toward men, applied to the 
sphere of production and exchange, and as important in the 
material world as the angelic song is in the moral sphere ? 

How is it in the wide domain of charity? The Middle Ages 
scattered charity with a profuse, though not always with a 
judicious hand, like the Mohametan who, with a pious inten- 
tion, orders bags full of coin to be thrown among a scrambling 
multitude; but no age, I believe, has equalled ours in a gen- 
eral attention to the toiling masses, and in its varied attempts 
to help the necessitous — not only the ragged and the starving. 
The list of charitable societies in London alone, which Lam- 
artine lately gave to the public, furnishes an ample subject for 
earnest reflection. And if our age had produced nothing but 
the Ragged School, the Savings Bank, and the Wash-house 
for the Poor, I should feel warranted in saying that the throb 
of charity is not unknown to its heart. I told you that I 
lately beheld the remains of Nineveh's grandeur. In the same 
city, whither the emblems of Assyrian sway have travelled — 
a symbolic indication of the direction which the course of 
history itself has taken, from Asia through the south of 
Europe, to the northern nations — in the same city where the 
wonder of our age was erected, the greatest monument of 
Peace and Good Will, there, too, I have repeatedly visited the 
Ragged School and those rescue schools for young abandoned 
thieves, and offending girls, far more difficult to reclaim than 
thieves ; and I believe that man was never engaged in a more 
Christian and holy cause. If we justly observe that Christi- 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION 293 

anity has produced by far the vastest changes in society, 
government, national intercourse, commerce, and literature, 
simply because it changed the inner man, and, therefore, 
humanity itself, we ought to add : And it has been able to 
produce the Ragged School. Kings and governments have 
in all ages occupied themselves, at times, with high emprises ; 
but it was left to our day to hear monarchs mention in their 
pithy throne speeches, addressed to assembled parliaments, 
the Primer, the Penitentiary, and the Potato — the poorest 
food for the poorest people. These are signs that stand for 
multitudes of things. 

And how do we find matters in that vast region of politics 
—the main staple of what is commonly called History? 
Hardly has Europe emerged, we cannot say recovered, from 
multifarious revolutions, which made her quiver from one end 
to the other, when everywhere indications are found of a new 
and far more serious convulsion, in which she will wade, knee- 
deep, through blood. There is agitation in the whole field of 
politics in our own country. Every mind, down to the least 
observing, is occupied with ideas of the last moment. Free- 
dom or unfreedom, change or unchange, progress, stability, or 
regress, are the watchwords everywhere. And what is true 
of politics is no less so of religion. Papacy, Protestantism, 
Judaism — all partake of the same stirring, rising, swelling 
activity. Nor is it different in the fine arts. An age of purer 
taste and wider production has succeeded a period of false 
and narrow refinement; and the sculptor and painter, the 
proud servants of History and brethren of Poetry, are dotting 
many a land with their monuments, the effects of a high civ- 
ilization, and the promoters of a higher one. 

Over all this straining activity spreads a public opinion, 
which has never been equalled in extent, distinctness, and 
vigor. In antiquity public opinion was enclosed and limited 
by the city wall. In the present time it hovers over and unites 
many entire countries into one community, deeming even the 
Atlantic as naught, and making the poet's mare dissociabile 
an unmeaning term. It is general, like knowledge itself. 



294 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

It has left the confined spot on earth, and its coruscations 
are seen by all and felt by king and kaiser as by the plainest 
citizen that is not wholly insulated within his surrounding 
society. 

I have been able to direct your attention to a few of the 
most prominent points only, like a guide when he leads a 
party of travellers towards the Alps, and points out some 
peaks of the colossal mountain group. He can show but a 
few at the time, but between them are lying thousands of no 
less important details. Yet I believe I have convinced you 
of the fact, which I was desirous of vindicating, that you have 
been born in an agitated and energetic age, in which it is 
necessary to be awake and resolute, diligent and manly, in 
order to keep up with the pushing, jostling crowd on the 
high-road ; otherwise you will fall back among the stragglers, 
and your chance will be lost. Whether the jury of historians, 
which will be empanelled in after-ages, will find a verdict 
that our period has made out a claim to have been a great age, 
we must leave to them ; but an active, intensely energetic age 
it certainly seems to me ; and you must gather more and more 
knowledge, in order to be able correctly to observe, and wisely 
to discriminate, lest the whole will become to you a tumultuous 
and disheartening confusion — the very opposite to that mental 
peace without which wisdom is impossible. 

Add to what I have said the two truths which I have spread 
before you in the lecture-room, that all knowledge must be 
far in advance of its application before it can be applied; and 
that you can possess full dominion over any province of 
knowledge only when you have a considerable acquaintance 
with adjacent districts — and your own conscience must tell 
you that your active self-education must be unbroken and 
unflagging. Wilfully to neglect it would be nothing less 
than levity, and I now solemnly remind you how often, in the 
course of my instruction in history and political philosophy, 
I have shown you that, of all corrosives in the whole catalogue 
of ethical poisons, levity is far the worst — worse, in the incal- 
culable and wide-spread mischief it produces, or allows to 



NECESSITY OF CONTINUED SELF-EDUCATION. 295 

grow in rank profusion, than passion, and even positive, bold 
political vice. 

There are so many thoughts and feelings crowding upon a 
man's mind and soul on an occasion like this, that it is diffi- 
cult to choose — and, when the choice of the subject has been 
made, to end. I will follow the advice of Martin Luther. 
He gives it as the ninth and last of his serious advices to a 
minister, that he should know when to stop in good time, and 
before the subject appears to him wholly exhausted. 

I now only add my last adieu, knowing that I speak in the 
name of all your teachers, and thus say : Be just, be pure, be 
truthful, be charitable, be resolute, be temperate, and void of 
levity ; and God will bless you. 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHEN^UMS. 1 

A LECTURE DELIVERED AT THE REQUEST OF THE COLUM- 
BIA ATHEN^UM, MARCH 17, 1856. 



Ladies and Gentlemen, — About a fortnight ago a com- 
mittee of the Columbia Athenaeum made me acquainted with 
a resolution, by which I was invited to deliver to my fellow- 
citizens of this place a lecture on the history and uses of 
athenaeums. I desire to repeat, as literally as my memory 
will serve me, what I then stated to your committee. I re- 
plied that it would seem ungracious in me to decline the com- 
plimentary offer and refuse to contribute my share, however 
small, to the furtherance of so worthy and useful an under- 
taking as the establishment of an athenaeum in our com- 
munity, but that I must frankly confess my ignorance on the 
subject. Nor did I believe that I should be able to derive 
much information from our college library, for the thirty 
years preceding our own days form always one of the most 
difficult veins to be traced and wrought by the historical 
miner. The committee declined assigning the task to abler 
hands, and here I stand before you, having found my fears 
regarding the library completely realized. I must throw my- 
self, therefore, on your indulgence, but, in doing so, I make 
free to remind you that the topic on which I am going to ad- 
dress you has not been chosen by me, but has been imposed 



x The following lecture was delivered at the Columbia (South Carolina) Athe- 
naeum, of which Hon. William C. Preston was president. Among Dr. Lieber's 
papers several emendations of the original text and some passages not printed 
hitherto were found. This revision of the address is here given. — (G.) 

297 



298 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

upon me by you. Nor will you forget that the topic is a 
narrow one ; it does not furnish the lecturer with comprehen- 
sive substance sufficient to make his lecture flow like a deep 
and wide river, carrying the bark of his hearer steadily down 
to the broad sea of knowledge ; it is not a subject that can 
impassion the soul of the speaker so that he may give it back 
in a fervent speech. My remarks, therefore, will constitute no 
real lecture ; no discourse or address, but rather an allocution, 
or, were I permitted in this place to indulge in familiar style 
a one-sided conversation. I make these remarks, conscious 
that I offend the well-established rule of Cicero, not to depre- 
ciate our own topics, and I naturally offer them at the begin- 
ning ; but I beg that you will kindly remember them at the 
conclusion, so that, should you feel inclined, when descending 
yonder steps, to say : What a lecture ! you may imagine me 
whispering over your shoulders : True, but how narrow a topic ! 

Permit me to state here an incident, which, of interest to 
me, will not, I think, be wholly void of it to you. The same 
day when your committee called on me, I was officially in- 
formed that some forty-five Germans, residing in this city, 
having formed a club, a year or two back, had collected a 
sum of money (about three hundred dollars) to lay the foun- 
dation of a German library for themselves and their families. 
Wherever the Germans go they form their " Harmonies" or 
" Germanias," or whatever other names they may give to 
their cosey clubs with circulating libraries — that requisite 
of German comfort. There is now a German " Harmony" 
at Athens and one in San Francisco on the Pacific. Strange 
vicissitudes ! 

Our German fellow-citizens requested me to- make out a 
catalogue for them, and I think you will agree with me that 
if we, in proportion to our number and means, do as much 
as they have done, all of whom are industrious and toiling 
artisans or mechanics, we shall do pretty well, and the athe- 
naeum will not be lacking a sufficiency of means. 

I now turn to the topic proper which you have proposed to 
me. 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 299 

When you ask me to give you the history of athenaeums, 
I suppose that you do not desire me to give a chronological 
account of a number of athenaeums. If you did, I must 
plead ignorance. I know the chronology of two athenaeums 
only — those of Liverpool and Boston. I must take it for 
granted that you wish me to point out what precise position 
the athenaeum occupies in the large system of institutions 
that form the apparatus of our civilization ; you want me to 
make you feel where the pulse of the athenaeum throbs in 
the great organism of our culture, and you desire me to lay 
before you how and by what process the athenaeum came to 
be what we now find it. You wish me, I take it, to show you 
the threads forming the web— to untwist the rope, and, show- 
ing the constituent strands, to follow them up to the very 
rope- walks whence they originally came. In one word, I am 
to show the genesis of the athenaeum. 

If we elevate ourselves to that philosophic height, whence 
we can take a comprehensive view even of our own times, 
free from the magnifying effect of the nearness of objects 
close before our eyes — that noble height which shows the 
connection and proportion, the truth of things — even in the 
calmness of that elevation, where we judge of the present 
with the justice of the historian, we shall be obliged to say 
that one of the characteristic features of the nineteenth cen- 
tury in the great history pf our western Caucasian race 1 is a 
yearning for knowledge and culture far more general than has 
ever existed at any previous period, on the one hand, and, on 
the other, a readiness and corresponding desire in the votaries 
of knowledge to diffuse it — to make the many millions share 
in its treasures and benefits. Men are no longer divided into 
two castes, the lettered and the unlettered. Knowledge has 
become disaristocratized. Science delights in teaching the 
farmer, and a Liebig does not consider it a disgrace, as he 
would have thought in former times, to analyze the different 

1 By this term I mean the Europeans and their descendants in other parts of 
the globe, a portion of our species for which we stand in need of a proper term, 
as I have elsewhere expressed (in my Civil Liberty and Self-Government). 



300 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



processes of cookery. Learning is no longer deemed to unfit 
a man for action and practice, and the school has become a 
state affair. Knowledge — the desire to possess it, and the 
delight to cultivate and spread it, have become a feature 
which, among others, gives its distinctive physiognomy to 
our age. But when a tendency, an idea, a longing seizes 
upon and fevers a nation or a race, it is like the working of 
spring. There is but one vernal breath breathed into torpid 
nature, but it manifests itself in a thousand different ways, in 
blossom, blade and balm, in foliage, carol and gambol, in silent 
beauty, humming life and noisy calls. It is the same with our 
love of knowledge. It breaks forth in many efforts, and mani- 
fests itself in varied institutions. The apparatus of the cause 
of knowledge, as we may well term it, is immense. 

We have first the book-trade, which has acquired truly 
gigantic dimensions, from the pedler who carries the Bible 
and Webster's spelling-book to the lonely settler in the w 7 est, 
up to the Harpers, Lippincotts, and Appletons in our own 
country, and the great publishing houses all over central 
Europe. 1 The capital engaged in this trade, the hands em- 
ployed by it, the brains working for it — who can state them 
all in a distinct estimate ? We have next that vast contriv- 
ance comprehended within the new term journalism, with 
thousands of presses working night and day and scattering 
their unceasing leaves over the face of the globe, followed 
from time to time by the periodicals of all the different spheres 
of knowledge. We have the school — the most extensive and 
articulated of all institutions, save the state itself, with the 
four leading nations — the English, the Americans, the French, 
and the Germans, if we understand by this brief monosyllable 
the aggregate of all societies and institutions established for 
the purpose of education, instruction, and the general promo- 
tion of knowledge, from the ragged school, which rescues the 
abandoned child, steeped in vice and filth, and cleanses it in 

1 According to the Statistics of the Industry in Massachusetts, published by the 
legislature in 1856, the mere printing done in that state amounts annually to 
$1,500,000. 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 



301 



the brooks of knowledge and religion, through the various 
gradations of the primary school system, that covers the land 
like a net-work, the higher schools and academies, the technic 
schools and colleges, the normal schools, seminaries, and high 
schools, up to the universities, some of the largest of which 
count above a hundred teachers; to which we must add the 
many learned societies, from the modest meeting of lettered 
friends to the national institute of France. 

We are apt to be amazed at the statements of the European 
land and naval forces, and well we may. Every fiftieth being 
in France is a soldier, or connected with the military depart- 
ment. The united army of the German confederacy amounts 
to above a million of men ; and there are about forty-five 
millions of Germans, so that about every forty-fifth being in 
that country is an accoutred, well-appointed soldier. What a 
prodigious national effort is requisite to produce and support 
such an establishment ! Yet, what is even this German army 
compared with the German school, if we consider that we are 
certainly within the bounds of truth when we set down every 
ninth being in that country as engaged in teaching and pur- 
suing knowledge, or in receiving and assimilating it? It 
amounts to a noble army of scholars indeed. The national 
effort to support such a state of things is incalculably great, 
especially as we must add the church, for the Christian church 
is inherently a preaching — that is, a teaching institution. We 
must not only take into account the great amount of wealth 
directly requisite to support the school, but also all the 
wealth the production of which is prevented by sending the 
million of children and lads to the school-house. This imme- 
diate prevention of production by the school is very great 
with all intensely industrious nations, as has long been shown 
by writers on political economy. Schooling enhances, indeed, 
in a signal degree, the productive powers of a nation in the 
end, but at first it causes a loss, which is to be supported by 
greater energy in the producers; and the more industrious a 
nation is, the greater is the immediate sacrifice to the school. 

A similar state of things exists with all the peoples of 



302 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

central Europe and with ourselves — a portion of civilized 
mankind amounting to more than one hundred and fifty 
millions of beings. I think I have shown the justness of my 
remark, that the school is one of the marked features of our 
times ; and it is daily becoming more so. 

At this moment an endeavor is making in Great Britain to 
establish a separate department of education, with a minister of 
education at its head. Similar functionaries have long existed 
in other countries ; but the carving out of a new department 
in England seems to me to be a distinct sign of the times ; 
for, a radical change, or a new organization, is in that country 
rarely the conception of a bold mind, willingly carried out, 
but generally the capital placed on a long and lofty column 
of endeavor and struggle. " The English use ancient formulas 
for new ideas, until the formula cracks under the tension." 
They do not hastily launch abstractions on the trying sea of 
reality, there perhaps soon to founder for want of proper 
seasoning on the patient stocks. 

May I not, on the other hand, allude to the fact that Euro- 
pean savans will have a free passage in American packet ships, 
to resort to the next meeting of scientific men at Albany, as 
a sign of the times? It seems so to me. In the days of 
Adrian, professors lectured at different places of the empire, 
and had the right of free passage in any of the public ships ; z 
but here the owners of the packet ships do from private lib- 
erality and individual esteem of science what the Roman 
emperor did as the ruler of the whole. 2 



1 Polemon of Laodicea taught oratory at Rome, Laodicea, Smyrna, and Alex- 
andria, and had the right of sailing, free of charge, in any government vessel, 
for himself and his family. — Philoslratus the Elder, in his Lives of Fifty-Nine 
Sophists. Why should we not, with our railways, economize talent, and have 
more frequently the same teachers lecturing in different institutions ? 

2 While these pages were passing through the press (the first time), the author 
received the act by which the legislature of New York has incorporated the 
institution founded by Peter Cooper, Esq., merchant and manufacturer in the 
city of New York, for the promotion of the arts, sciences, literature, and general 
knowledge among both sexes, and in the different classes of society. It is near 
its completion, and when finished will have received from its founder values to 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 303 

In giving you, however, an enumeration of the different 
classes of institutions constituting the school, I have omitted 
an entire important class of cultural establishments, of recent 
origin. I hope you allow the word cultural to pass without 
censure. We stand in need of a term for the distinct idea it 
expresses, and having agricultural from agriculture, I do not. 
see why we should not have cultural, since we have culture. 
It is certainly better than civilizational, which besides would 
not give the precise meaning to be conveyed. 

I mean those institutions whose object it is to promote, by 
associations or mutual support, the culture of the mind and 
taste among those who have left the school, and are engaged 
in the practical pursuits of life — the library associations, the 
apprentices' libraries, the mechanics' institutions, the working 
men's colleges, the lyceums, the athenaeums, and whatever 
other names may be given to the different kinds of this class 
of institutions, all of which have this in common, that by 
mutual support they furnish an opportunity for continued 
culture and acquisition of knowledge to men practically en- 
gaged in life, to the artisan and physician, the lawyer and the 
mechanic, the manufacturer and the minister. Almost all of 



the amount of half a million of dollars. These he gives with his living palm, 
not with the stiffened hand of bequest. To call such a gift princely or even 
imperial liberality, were simply using a sinking figure of speech. Princes never 
bestow such gifts of that which is their own. May we not call it American 
republican munificence ? No Adrian disburses this sum from the treasury, filled 
with the tribute of aching provinces ; no Napoleon lavishes it from the collection 
of severe taxes ; no Guy bequeaths it to soothe the smarting memory of disrep- 
utable traffic ; no testator distributes what he could not take with him ; but a 
simple citizen and kindly lover of his species gives what he has earned by active 
and by honest trade, in the full vigor of a life that has always been garnished 
with deeds of charity and public spirit. An act like this is an event, and belongs 
to history; otherwise it might be indelicate to state that the mentioned sum is not 
the tithe, but the third or fourth part of the wealth which the generous donor's 
own industry has accumulated with the blessing of Providence. Nor are to him 
the words wife and children mere terms without the thrilling directness of 
reality. His public largess does not come from private loneliness ; and it re- 
quired the sovereign power of the legislature to force the name of Cooper on the 
institution, which the founder had petitioned his law-givers to call the Union, 
that is, the Union of Arts, Sciences, and General Knowledge. 



304 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



them endeavor to obtain their end by the threefold means of 
the library, the reading-room, and the occasional lecture. Of 
these institutions the athenseum, as its name would indicate, 
is, perhaps, that which endeavors to add more especially 
literature and taste to its objects, and is most intended as a 
means of dignified mental recreation and tasteful repose. It 
is impossible to draw the distinction very accurately, because 
the names I have enumerated are not very accurately used, 
nor does the term athenseum itself imply a well-defined 
meaning, according to its etymology. 

The term athenseum comes down to us from remote an- 
tiquity. Every place, town, temple, or other fabric dedicated 
to Pallas Athene, the goddess of wisdom, was called, in 
Greece, an Athenaion. There was a building in Athens called 
the Athenaion, where rhetoricians and authors read their pro- 
ductions and youth received partial education, or at least 
instruction. The Athenaeum, however, through which the 
name became most known in Western Europe, was, probably, 
the institution which the Emperor Adrian established on the 
Capitoline Hill after his return from his eastern tour, about 
one hundred and twenty years after Christ. This Roman 
athenseum was a building where paid teachers or professors, 
as we would call them, taught rhetoric and philosophy, and 
where literary productions were publicly read. It was the 
highest educational establishment of the western portion of 
the empire — a sort of university; on a small scale, indeed, 
compared with the magnificent institutions of this name in 
our times. When a youth had completed his provincial 
training he would, if sufficiently wealthy, go to the Athenseum 
of Rome to finish his education. Other cities of the empire 
had their athenseums. There was one at Lyons. The dark 
ages swept away these as nearly all other cultural establish- 
ments ; but when the love of knowledge went abroad again 
from the cloisters, we find an athenaeum in Marseilles — a sort 
of academy of belles-lettres. The name was occasionally 
given to similar societies in other places; but it was rarely 
used for the same purpose in Germany. There the word 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 305 

athenaeum has been chiefly employed, so far as I recollect, for 
periodicals treating of topics connected with belles-lettres and 
taste. 1 The Athenaeum, long edited by Schlegel, known by 
most of you as the author of the History of Literature, has 
acquired great renown. There is a periodical of the same 
name in London, but in England the term athenaeum is chiefly 
used for institutions connected in some way with literature or 
in general of a cultural character. The Athenaeum Club in 
London was established by artists and literary men. The 
Athenaeum in Liverpool, in the foundation of which the great 
banker-author, Roscoe, was especially instrumental, was prob- 
ably the one that became the inciting cause of the establish- 
ment of the Boston Athenaeum, which was founded about the 
year 181 1. Both the Liverpool and Boston Athenaeums are 
establishments such as I have characterized, and as you are 
erecting here. 

So much for the name, and now for some remarks on the 
component parts of athenaeums. The chief means by which 
the athenaeum endeavors to obtain its ends are, as we have 
seen, the library, the reading-room, and the occasional lecture.. 
A collection of works of the fine arts and even scientific col- 
lections are sometimes added. 

Whence does the library come ? 

All transmission of knowledge must necessarily begin with 
oral tradition. Knowledge, memory, experience, facts and 
stories, history and speculation pass from mouth to mouth ; 
it is long the only means before a better is discovered, but it 
is an insufficient one. It is vague ; sometimes slender like a 
thread and easily broken ; sometimes wild, rising to furious 
violence, almost always defacing and distorting. I speak of 
tradition as a vessel of knowledge. Skill, art, taste, manner, 
application, and even sentiments and fervor, must forever 
belong, in a great measure, to the realm of tradition. Other- 

1 What we now call athenaeum is more frequently named in Germany a 
museum. Our showmen have changed this, and the term, indicating a place 
sacred to the muses, is used for exhibition rooms sacred to bearded women, 
stitched mermaids, and the like. 
Vol. I. — 20 



3 o6 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

wise, distant nations might straightway adopt our law and 
jury, or our whole constitutional system, yet they would not 
work at once for lack of traditional genius. Music is not 
imported into our country by the importation of musical 
notations ; the singer must come along with them, and our 
Crawfords and Powers must go to Italy to learn the tradition 
of the sculpturing chisel. The art of printing gave the book 
to every one, but it was necessary that the living teacher 
should accompany it, from the learned countries to the darker 
lands, to give life to it. There is probably no more striking 
illustration of the mutual need of the book and tradition than 
that afforded us by the conquest of Constantinople. The book 
preserved and brought down Grecian intellectuality to that 
time in the eastern portion of Europe, but Providence used 
its rude conquest to drive forth and scatter the living ex- 
pounders of the books, the traditional torch-bearers, over the 
west, there to prepare a new age with its Reformation. 

Tradition must always fill out with the felt and spoken word 
the interstices between the parts of firmly recorded knowl- 
edge. Nearly the whole portion of our civilization which we 
may designate by that comprehensive term civility is tradi- 
tional in spite of our Chesterfields and Les Petites Morales. 
Nearly all that is symbolical in our life belongs to tradition, 
but as a chief conveyer of truth, and especially if it be the 
only means of conveyance, tradition wraps herself in thicker 
and thicker veils as she proceeds. This tradition, intended 
to be a channel of knowledge, often resembles those aban- 
doned canals which we sometimes see, containing stagnant 
and putrid pools of greenish water, breeding miasmas, instead 
of carrying along the full volume that was to have quickened 
trade, and to have distributed the comforts of life. 

Opportunities are frequently, even now, in our printing age, 
offered to us of observing the mischievous working of tradi- 
tion. Rumor is a species of tradition, short-lived, but quick 
and violent. You, I, every one is liable to mistake repetition 
for confirmation ; and who that is acquainted with history, or 
observes his own times with some attention, does not know 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENEUMS. 



307 



the cruel part frequently played by rumor ? Rumor murdered 
John De Witt, and rumor has tarred and feathered innocent 
victims. 

On the other hand, an incident in my own life occurs to me 
now, because it made a deep impression on me in my younger 
days, proving the confusing power of tradition. Not more 
than three years after the sharp battles by which the French 
were repulsed from Germany, I made a pedestrian journey, 
according to German fashion, to several of the battle-fields. 
I travelled to Silesia, and went over the field of Katzbach, 
with a farmer who had been a guide to one of the Prussian 
generals. He showed me where such a battery had been 
planted, and pointed out where such a square had been mowed 
down. He led me to the spot where Bliicher 1 said to the 
raw recruits, " You are young soldiers, and will be no great 
hands at shooting. Anyhow, I hate losing much time with 
that waste of powder. How would it do to tickle the enemy 



1 Bliicher had then already received the honor of a soldierly nickname. He 
was universally called Marshal Onward (Vorwarts), for his readiest command, 
no matter how exhausted the soldiers might feel, was Vorwarts. The name has 
passed into poetry, as a certain camp poetry had dictated it. Almost all com- 
manders, on whom their men have looked with truly soldierly or sailor-like reli- 
ance, have had their nicknames in which a rough fondling manifests itself. Le 
petit corporal was Napoleon's, as Marlborough was called Corporal John ; Alter 
Fritz was that of Frederick the Great ; Old Hickory, Jackson's ; and Marion was 
called the Swamp Fox; Caesar was nicknamed from his baldness, at least in the 
ribald songs of the triumphs. The Hindoos called Clive, Sabut Jung, the daring 
in war. There is another class of popular names, which are like fearful sen- 
tences, such as the Butcher for the Duke of Cumberland, or Bobbing John for 
the Earl of Mar. Great civilians, too, have had their popular names. Old Dan 
was no uncommon name for Webster, when highest in popular favor, and Clay 
was frequently called Prince Hal. When Chatham was at the head of the cabi- 
net, he was called the people's minister, to the great dislike of George the Third, 
who was nicknamed Farmer George. The lawyers called Lord Eldon, Old Bags. 
Who does not recollect that schoolboys and students, indeed all close communi- 
ties in close contact with prominent leaders, whose excellent and weak parts are 
readily observed, are lavish in bestowing endearing, ridiculing, or censuring 
nicknames ? But it requires great fondness on the one hand, or a good fasten- 
ing point on the other. I am not aware that Washington ever had his popular 
name. William of Orange was called Father William, and retains the name to 
this day. 



308 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

with the bayonet first, and then crack away at him when he 
runs ?" And they did tickle away the enemy, and gained one 
of the most sanguinary and decisive victories in that bloody 
campaign. But what was my surprise when I found that my 
guide, in his farther account, mixed up details belonging to a 
battle which Frederick the Great had fought near the same 
spot, against the Russians, more than half a century before ! 
It is thus that tradition heaps upon one Hercules the prowess 
of many a champion, and the sallies of many a wit upon. one 
Talleyrand, or accuses one Nero of the crimes of many mal- 
efactors. 

Man is not satisfied with tradition alone. Man longs to 
record. There are two principles constantly at work in the 
human soul, a longing to represent without what deeply 
moves him within, and a desire to let posterity know what he 
has suffered or enjoyed, as well as to know what his forefathers 
have suffered and enjoyed. Man loves to remember and to 
be remembered. We may call it the historical impulse of 
man, and it seems to be deeply implanted in our being by its 
Author as one of the providential means to insure the con- 
tinuity of society, without which no civilization would be 
possible. Man is led by it to inscriptions in picture writing. 
He represents his ideas, as well as he can, by images. The 
incipiency of writing is there ; for, although images are used 
in the pictorial writing, it differs from the picture in this, that 
it evokes a succession of connected ideas, while the picture 
represents the action of one moment, however complicated 
this may be. 

From the picture writing, man proceeds to the ideographic 
and hieroglyphic writing, and at length he arrives, by most 
instructive and interesting processes, revealed to us by the 
Champollions and Youngs, at the alphabet, the phonetic 
writing, that wonderful contrivance by which we succeed, with 
the help of a few tiny signs, to express all our ideas, not by a 
direct sign or representation of them, as a lion for strength, 
but by representing the sounds, which, in turn, represent the 
ideas, so that the Chinese justly say that we write through the 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 309 

eye to the ear and through the ear to the mind, but they 
through the eye alone. The A B C, in its sublime simplicity, 
and its immeasurable effect, is so stupendous an invention that 
most, if not all, ancient nations have ascribed its origin to 
direct inspiration. So soon as the alphabet is revealed to 
man, he descends from the region of the mere inscription to 
the vast, unlimited domain of the book ; for so soon as he 
can write alphabetically, he can collect what he has written in 
a small compass — he has a book. 

What is a book ? A book is a collection of thought-en- 
shrining materials in a portable compass, no matter what that 
material may be, whether shoulder-blades of mutton, on which 
Mahomet wrote his suras, or papyrus, tablets or parchment, 
cloth or paper ; or what its shape may be, a scroll, a string of 
mnemonic symbols, or our volumes. So soon as you can 
carry thought-enshrining material from place to place, and 
can gather this material in some coherent bulk, you have 
what essentially constitutes the book ; and so soon as you 
have books, you can collect them — you have the library, this 
accompaniment of all advanced civilization. 

The book and the library have always sprung forth, as it 
were, where civilization of. a higher order has shown itself. 
We cannot well imagine it without them. Even our religion 
could not dispense with the book. The book and the library 
belong to what I would call the perennial or permanent con- 
comitants of civilization. 

Allow me here to speak, if I may say so, a marginal note 
on these concomitants. There are certain things, ideas, in- 
stitutions, which we always observe in their incipiency, so 
soon as men rise from the depths of barbarism ; which become 
intenser in their action, or weightier in their meaning, as men 
advance, and sink or become fainter as men relapse. These 
I call the permanent concomitants of civilization ; they are 
additional gauges of culture. It is for them we must inquire, 
if we wish to present to our minds a vivid image of a people, 
and it is these elementary parts that the historian must seek, 
if he desires to know the bed in which the succession of 



3io 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



notable events has coursed along; or if he wishes, if I may 
apply an expression of Goethe, " to read between the lines" 
of the historical record. 

If you desire to know the condition and very life of a given 
people, you must ask, How do they eat? how do they dress? 
how do they dwell ? Men always prepare their food by the 
help of fire. They never merely gather it as the brute does. 
Man is a cooking animal. But there is an immense difference 
between the irregular and fitful feeding of our Pueblo Indians 
in Texas, who, according to official reports given us by con- 
gress, have not yet arrived at the idea of the meal, although 
they have fixed habitations and some agriculture, or of the 
Thibetans, who, the missionary Hue tells us, help themselves 
from their simmering kettle as appetite may prompt, and the 
symposium at which a Socrates and Plato exchanged thought 
and pleasantry amid the refinements of an Athenian repast, or 
the clean and inviting table of a cheerful family, over whose 
savory viands Religion breathes a hallowing grace. I do not 
know a more striking symbol of our extensive though some- 
what sturdy civilization, so far as it affects the most numerous 
classes, than a cleanly and well-appointed dinner-table, to 
which a hard-working man, having washed off the honorable 
soil of labor, sits down with a thrifty wife and happy children 
to take a Christian meal. And as vice or brutality invade a 
home, so will the meal lose its cheering and recreating impor- 
tance in the house. The meal symbolizes the progress of man. 
The cheap cruet-stand of dull pewter, with its four inelegant 
cruets of glass, represents nevertheless a comprehensive state 
of progress. To bring together, and within the reach of a 
humble household, the pepper of Muscat or Madagascar, the 
olive oil of Bordeaux, the salt of England, and the vinegar 
of the North has required sea-defying commerce, long agri- 
cultural experience, embolding astronomy, wise architecture, 
accumulated capital, and long-developed law — domestic and 
international — skill, energy, science, patience, and bravery — 
men brave in action, brave in knowledge, brave in speculation, 
of which we little think when daily using these condiments. 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 



3H 



The history of the meal, the amount of domestic comfort, 
which includes the standard of cleanliness — an element of 
national as well as individual prosperity, both moral and 
physical — would be a significant contribution to the history 
of the civilization of a people. 

Man is by nature a sloven and a sluggard ; civilization alone 
washes him clean and pushes him on to work and produce. 1 

We must ask, How do they intercommunicate? Do they 
communicate? Have they the mail? When the fiat went 
forth that men should be social beings, and that their very 
civilization should in a great part be founded upon the per- 
vading principle of mutual dependence, a fiat went likewise 
forth that there should be roads. The caravan, the road, the 
canal, the bridge, 2 the navigation on river and sea, some con- 
trivance of more or less extensive intercommunication is 
always observable ; but between the weary camel-track in the 
desert and the path of the buffalo, which Senator Benton calls 
the pioneer of road-making engineers, and the whirling speed 
on the iron rail, the floating mansions in our times, or the 
road which Napoleon put like a taming yoke on the neck of 
the Simplon, are all the phases of rising and sinking civiliza- 
tion. The road distributes and joins ; it is the most efficient 



1 I find that Dr. Adam Clarke, in his Instructions to Missionaries in Shetland, 
contained in his Christian Theology, enumerates the following among the sub- 
jects attended to in order to obtain a complete knowledge of the people : How 
they cook, what they feed on. 

2 It requires civilization to build bridges ; bridges break down with civilization. 
In the darkest times of the Middle Ages, when government crumbled down be- 
fore the shocks of feudal anger and brutal strife, bridges, as a matter of course, 
went down, and in many parts of Germany the people formed societies of bridge- 
builders, to take care of them ; as the Vehme courts were formed, because there 
was no government to administer justice, but people must have bridges and justice, 
and if the government cannot repair the one or administer the other, the people 
must find some contrivances for themselves to do it. 

I add the following from the papers of the day : 

King Victor Emmanuel went to Culoz in Savoy on the 30th August, 1857, 
to inaugurate the works for cutting a tunnel under Mont Cenis, intended to con- 
nect the French and Sardinian railways. He fired the first mine. Prince 
Napoleon was present, sent by the emperor to compliment the king. 



312 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



productive aid, and a civilizer that has few equals. All the 
greatest nations have been active road-makers in their stages 
of high civilization, with the exception of Greece, owing to 
her small and deeply-indented territory. The Romans were 
great road-makers— we travel to this day on some of their 
pavements — and that manly people called their roads as their 
greatest laws by the names of their originators. They had 
their Via Appia, their Via ^Emiliana, and thus making the 
roads historic monuments showed how the proud Senatus 
Populusque Romanus loved to assimilate the idea of greatness 
and renown with that of the road. Why do we not imitate 
them ? The French are road-makers ; the Germans are road- 
makers ; England is covered with the completest net of roads 
that ever existed, and spreads the road in India; the Ameri- 
cans are road-makers, and have conceived an idea bolder and 
sublimer than the bold emperor's Alpine road — the railway 
to the Pacific, while they have already wedded the Atlantic 
to the Pacific in the iron bonds of Panama. Among the five, 
greatest works that Alexander is reported to have proposed 
to himself, was that of binding the distant points of conquests 
by roads ; and, on the other hand, what is there more melan- 
choly in the songs and writings of the Germans after the dire 
Thirty Years' War than their telling us that many towns and 
villages were deserted, and the high-roads grown over with 
brambles ? Where is a sterner rebuke of the Spanish govern- 
ment in America than the few lines in which the historian tells 
us that the Spaniards found fine roads built by the Incas, that 
they used them, that parts of them are still used, but that the 
greater part was allowed to go to ruin, and no new ones were 
constructed. 1 



1 Mr. Markham, in his Cuzco : A Journey to the Ancient Capital of Peru, etc., 
London, 1856, gives an account of the ancient Peruvian roads and the working 
of the stones, which were brought from great distances, with descriptions of the 
ancient tools which have been found (of hardened copper like the chisels of 
ancient Greece). He describes " the Tired Stones": "On the road there are 
still two immense blocks that never reached their destination, which place the 
route traversed by the others beyond a doubt. They are well known as the 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 313 

We must ask : How do they punish ? Where any number 
of men are congregated for a common purpose, however few, 
and though they were pirates, there must be common rules 
of action ; and where there are common rules they may be 
infringed, for God in his goodness made us free agents, that 
can do wrong or right ; and where common rules are infringed 
there must be punishment. The house, the school, the church, 
the state, the army, the ship, the factory, the caravan, the very 
railway car must have common rules, and punishment accord- 
ingly ; but from the early bullying punishment founded upon 
coarse revenge, to the calm, dignified, humanizing yet deeply 
penetrative and lasting solitary confinement of the Pennsyl- 
vania system, what centuries of toilsome improvement ! How 
do they try ? Do they continue to deny counsel to the ac- 
cused ? Do they continue to commit the sanguinary fallacy 
of denying the means of defence granted to the common 
criminal, those that are accused of the most heinous crimes, 
by which witchcraft and high treason is understood, and when 
an orderly trial is most needed ? The history of the penal 
trial is a most instructive and impressive history of our 
progress and relapses. 

We must ask : What is their recreation ? how do they 
amuse themselves ? Pain and grief enter largely, indeed, as 
elements of the great household of man, but joy no less so. 
If sin is the mother of pain, He that bids the flower to bloom 
is the father of joy, and when toil in the sweat of our brow 
was ordained to be the lot of man, recreation was beckoned 
to wipe the sweating brow. Yet the pleasures of man are 
wild or refined, and, in turn, bewilder or refine as he rises or 



famous Saycusca-rumi-cuna, or tired stones. The one nearest the fortress is nine 
feet eight inches long, seven feet eight inches broad, and four feet two inches 
deep. It is beautifully cut, and has a groove three inches deep round it, appar- 
ently for passing a rope. The other is twenty feet four inches in length, fifteen 
feet two inches broad, and three feet six inches deep, like a huge beam." 

The Spanish conquest overtook them, as the conquest of Egypt overtook the 
half-finished sphinx, and never moved them on. They became the " tired stones." 
The historian finds many " tired stones" in inchoate institutions, half-lived nations, 
broken ideas, and men that came too late, like Tacitus. 



3H 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



sinks in culture and dignity. And again we must ask : Do 
they live for enjoyment alone? For the present? Nothing 
characterizes the savage more strongly, and gives greater 
difficulty to the missionary, than the unwillingness to think 
beyond the day being. This is the great impediment in the 
way of introducing agriculture. Man must work in spring 
and cannot reap before autumn. And nothing proves the 
decadence of a people so surely as the loss of their willing- 
ness to lay out labor and capital the fruits of which are to be 
reaped by their country, indeed, but not by their generation — 
when the pointed saying, Why shall I work for posterity? 
What has posterity done for me ? becomes a national senti- 
ment of degrading selfishness. 

We must ask : In what relation does the actual cultivator 
of the soil stand to the owner of the land, or is the tiller of 
the ground a substantial yeoman ? To no subject has Nie- 
buhr bent more his searching attention, in order to understand 
the Roman people, than to this relation of elementary impor- 
tance. 

How do they tax the people ? What share do they take of 
a man's own, and how do they take it, to build up that pyra- 
mid called government ? The tax must always exist, even 
though it be in the shape of actual begging on the part of the 
chief, as with some South American Indians ; but between 
that gift and the financial systems of advanced nations we find 
every variety of gauges indicative of progress or relapse. 

How do they teach and heal, till and forge, or work their 
metals? How many hours, and by what artificial light do 
they snatch these hours from the impeding night to add to 
the day of work and of study and thus to the lives of men ? 
For the school, the hospital, the plough, the anvil, and the 
lamp must forever form some of the truest elements of civili- 
zation. From the Chinese school to our elaborate school 
system ; from the Indian medicine man, who is at the same 
time the enchanter, to the medical system of a city like Paris; 
from the stick, with which the Oregon Indian loosens the 
ground for his maize, to the neat and even graceful American 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 315 

plough ; from the first working of virgin copper to the com- 
prehensive metallurgy of the modern white man, with all the 
forges and the " cunning artificers" or a Benvenuto Cellini — 
do I not encompass by these few words almost the whole 
range of man's dominion over matter, and what dominates 
over matter, if not progressive mind — civilization ? 

How is machinery, and all that turns and wheels ? Man, 
with fewer formative instincts than the animal, and without 
natural weapons or instruments (hence, perhaps, the early 
worship of animals as wiser and superior beings), must resort 
to artificial tools, which, more or less complicated, constitute 
the machine. We call machinery a composition of tools, ap- 
pearing to us very complicated, but complication is a relative 
term. A water-mill appears to this day to the Asiatics a 
wonderful machine ; we no longer comprehend it within the 
term machinery. Now let us view in our minds the long line 
of machines, from the first plough or the spokeless wheel 
made of two semicircular boards — the cart-wheel of all an- 
tiquity and of many countries to this day — to Arkwright's 
cotton spinning, or the multiplied steam-engine, which lately 
exhausted the sea of Haarlem, and gave back to man a wide 
area of fields and meadow land. Observe how skill and 
ingenuity rise and fall back — gradually back — again upon un- 
aided and unmultiplied labor of coarse hands. What fluc- 
tuations of humanity are not thus indicated ? 

How do they fight and treat the prisoner? how do they 
sing ? how do they love and wed ? The sword, the poetry, 
the marriage and the position of woman are distinctive marks 
of character and civilization. Does the woman wait on the 
man, or do the men say as lately an Indian chief said : " We 
thank you that your missionaries have taught us to put lighter 
burdens on our women" ? Does the woman occupy a grudged 
place in the corner, and is the birth of a daughter considered 
a misfortune of which the father is ashamed to speak, and for 
which infanticide is considered a fair remedy, or does she 
largely occupy an honored place in the house, in society, in 
the broad field of patriotism, in literature and religion ? Does 



3i' 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



she rise to the Roman matron or the Christian wife? Is she a 
slave, a toy, or an equal ? Does she rule where she rules well, 
or is she led into spheres where all her graces cannot com- 
pensate for her displacement ? Have they their Nightingales, 
their Dixes, their Frys ? Is the woman acknowledged as a 
sharer in the full enjoyment and fair production of literature, 
and a judge of taste and purity? 1 Does the girl participate 
with the boy in education, or do they still maintain that read- 
ing and writing will only enable the girl to write her own love 
letters? 2 Has their law steadily moved onward, and is still 
moving thus, in protecting the woman, and in acknowledging 
in her humanity in all its fulness ? Or have they relapsed to 
a morbid gallantry, which treats the woman as if she were no 
responsible individual ? 

How do they remember their deeds and their great men ? 
Have they monuments, or do they live without monumental 
records, and, therefore, without public spirit, which dictates 
them, while they in turn nourish it? What and whom do 
they commemorate ? Great things and great men ? Warriors 
only ? Or pompous emptiness ? 

How do they worship, and what or whom ? Man is a re- 
ligious being, though he bow before a fetish, or lean too much 
on the strength of his understanding. His worship is a gauge. 

I mention chiefly worship here, because religion in its in- 
trinsic sense is a constituent rather than a concomitant of 
civilization, which in its totality consists of the religion, the 
science, the language and literature, the law, government, the 
arts and social polish, the ethics and aesthetics of a nation. 

We must ask : How do they teach ? how is the book, the 
library? So soon as men have the steadying book, they 



1 Niebuhr used to read his history, as he composed, to his wife, to hear and 
weigh her criticism, and gave it to me as a rule to submit everything written 
for publication to an accomplished woman of elevated character. I understand 
that a distinguished historian, living among us, does as Niebuhr did. 

8 I speak here historically. In Europe as well as Asia this objection has always 
been made when the introduction of education for girls was first discussed. It 
was made in Europe not more than a century ago, and I have met with the same 
apprehension in Turkey. 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 317 

begin to collect books, they have libraries. The library is 
eminently a concomitant of the civilization of our race. It is 
always there, yet in the most varied phases, until it penetrates 
to all the layers of society, from the vast collections made by 
great national efforts to the irrigating circulating library. In 
the book is earthly immortality of thought and name, and the 
library is sacred ground of humanity. It surrounds you with 
the thoughts and the feelings, the toil, the grief and the joy, 
the struggles and the conquests, the aspirations, the failures, 
the experience and the records of the representatives of ouif 
kind. It is the bridge over which civilization travels from 
man to man, from land to land, spanning even over oceans, 
and, what is more, from generation to generation ; over which 
you may go at any time to sit down at the feet of the inspired 
blind man. The library, the book, is the bridge over which 
the Grecian princes of thought or the British king of song 
will come at any time, so that you beckon them to teach, to 
delight, and to enlarge your soul; aye, it is the bridge over 
which your Saviour passes at night and morn into the stillness 
of your closet to bring the bread of life. 

The library has acquired an importance in our times which 
it never possessed before. It is true, indeed, that so active an 
agent as the book does also its mischief. But the book is 
nothing more than extended, prolonged, and, in some respects, 
intenser communion, as indeed the whole art of reading and 
writing is, and to wage war against them, because they may 
degenerate into evil communion, would be as inconsistent as 
to declare hostility to the word of mouth, because there is 
much evil conversation. 

Directly connected with the library is the reading-room, 
which forms at the same time a focus for the rays of journalism. 
It is an edifying sight to look down from the gallery on the 
wide area of the reading-room in the National Library at 
Paris, filled with men and women, the fine coat by the side 
of the blouse, all eagerly reading and collating at that long 
table, and all served with equal civility by the servants of the 
library. 



3i8 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



Let us pass over to the Lecture. The history of the lecture 
from the Athenian discourse to Abelard's address, when a 
host of sudents followed him in his banishment from Paris, 
and from the Middle Ages to the present time, would doubt- 
less be instructive to the inquirer into the progress of our 
race ; but I fear that I have permitted myself to dwell dispro- 
portionately long on some parts of our topic, so that I shall 
make a few remarks on the Occasional Lecture to mixed 
audiences, only. 

There are four species of lectures, taking this term without 
reference to its etymology, but in the sense of a set address 
for the sake of instruction or entertainment, as well as for the 
reading of a composition — the real prelection. We have first 
the regular scientific lecture, consisting of a systematic course 
on some branch of knowledge. We have the reading of the 
reader's own work, as Herodotus read parts of his history to 
the crowd gathered to witness the Olympic games, and as it 
has become again the custom for authors to communicate 
productions of their own to large assemblies, before publish- 
ing their works. We have, thirdly, the prelection of classic 
works, as in the case of Tieck, the poet, in Germany, and 
Fanny Kemble and others in our own country. And we have, 
lastly, the occasional lecture or course of lectures, which oc- 
cupies so large a space in the domain of culture in England 
and the United States. It is this occasional lecture which 
constitutes one of the ingredients of the modern athenaeum. 

I am not sure that I am quite correct in my view of the 
origin and progress of the modern occasional lecture, but I 
give you what appears to me true. 

The court of Louis XIV. was, with all its turpitudes, an 
assemblage of fine gentlemen and ladies of great taste. 
Poetry and science entered within the circle of the aristo- 
cratic splendor, and scholars learned to speak and write on 
grave topics with taste and elegance. Works such as the 
Spirit of Laws, by Montesquieu, were at a later period the 
effect of this new phase of knowledge. But the first man 
who wrote with the avowed intention of writing well, nobly, 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 319 

and artistically on science, was Count Buffon, eighteen years 
younger than Montesquieu. The Spirit of Laws and the first 
volume of Buffon's General Natural History appeared at the 
same time. It was a signal step in literature when men, for 
the first time, used that language which had been cultivated 
by the Fenelons and Bossuets, to write with elegance and 
often with sublimity on law and natural history, and such are 
the ways of history, a change of a decidedly popular or dem- 
ocratic tendency, although proceeding with equal distinctness 
from an aristocratic culture. 

It is very likely that the famous Garden of Plants, estab- 
lished under Louis XIV., has assisted in this transition. The 
Garden of Plants, first intended as a botanical garden, soon 
became the zoological garden of Paris, and Buffon was made 
its intendant. But this garden of science was also elegantly 
and tastefully laid out; and, where a Buffon observed and 
meditated, many elegant loungers, as well as dapper bonnes, 
were in the habit of amusing themselves. Was not this 
garden somewhat a prototype of Buffon's works ? At any 
rate, Buffon is the savant who said : Le style c'est l'homme — 
the style is the man himself, a dictum, we all know, untrue, 
if taken in its absolute sense; otherwise, Cromwell would 
have been a confused bungler, instead of a clear-headed, 
strong-willed ruler, full of directness of purpose. 1 But there 



1 Buffon uttered another dictum, more frequently quoted and less accurate : 
Genius is labor. No genius has left an impress upon its epoch without perse- 
vering hard labor. Men of genius sleep least. Frederick, Handel, Bacon, Goethe, 
Napoleon, Aristotle, Pitt, Thorwaldsen, Columbus, Luther, Galilei, Pascal, Leib- 
nitz, Newton — all were men of hard work; genius and perfunctory haste are 
incompatible ; but it was partly their genius that impelled them to work so steadily 
and that guided their labor to the great end. Labor cannot generalize, but you 
cannot generalize without labor ; labor cannot conceive, but you cannot execute 
without labor. A mischievous person might point to the man on the treadmill 
and say, " Behold a Buffonian genius." Still a man of genius like Buffon had 
some right to say, genius is labor, for he labored forty years at his natural history. 
Genius and labor are to a great man what the blast and the laborious " puddling" 
are to the iron in the foundry. They "bring the iron to its nature," as the 
founders say — its tenacity, strength, and worth for the great purposes of life. 
The greater the genius the more need for assiduous labors. Genius is by nature 



3 2Q ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

is much truth in BufTon's saying, and it clearly shows how- 
necessary he thought a close interpenetration of style and 
meaning, of form and thought. He wished to write for a 
larger public than for the men of the profession. He desired 
to charm the cultivated gentleman as well as the lady of 
aristocratic rank, while he was instructing the man of science 
on the organic life and the beautifully varied appearance of 
the animal kingdom. The very fact that Buffon, whose name 
was Leclerc, was made a count, because distinguished in 
science, is significant in the history of knowledge and does 
honor to France. We have law peers, and army and navy 
peers in England ; but no scientific peers yet. 1 

Napoleon said to Las Cases that had Corneille lived at his 
time, he would have made him prince. We doubt it, but it 
shows the French spirit. Lord Derby remarked in the lords, 
in 1856, that it would be injurious to scientific men to hold out 
so worldly a recompense as a peerage for their immortal labors. 
Why does the potential peerage not injure the sense of justice 
in the lawyer ? Why does the knighting not injure the literary 
men, or why does the worldly remuneration paid for a book 
not injure the scientific men now ? Why is the coveted mem- 
bership of the French Institute not injurious to scholars and 
philosophers ? If eminent merit, if powerful and beneficial 
influence on the period a man lives in were entitling to the 
peerage, Rowland Hill would be an earl ere this. 



impatient; unwearying application gives it character, without which we attain to 
nothing. The Greeks, far the most brilliant nation, were the hardest working 
people. 

I have appended this note to help impressing a weighty truth on the minds of 
my younger readers, and preventing the mischief of a great truth in a false form. 

1 I now add, September, 1857, that Lord Palmerston has raised Mr. Macaulay 
to the peerage. Mr. Macaulay has been member of the cabinet, and he owes 
his literary reputation much to the brilliancy of his writing and his exquisite 
power of historical portraiture, but his peerage is accepted as a transition to a 
worthier state of things. Will Grote be an earl ? Will science proper, so called, 
and thousand-armed machinery have their representatives in the lords ? Dead 
wealth has long ago raised men to the benches which surround the woolsack. 
Shall the creative wealth of thought and inventive combination always stand 
behind the counted wealth of traffic ? 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 321 

The ice was broken. Ladies took an interest in the trans- 
actions of the Academy. I am not aware at what precise 
period the lecture to mixed audiences came into vogue in 
Paris; but Buffon died in 1788, and, about the year 1818, I 
heard the great Humboldt deliver occasional lectures in Ber- 
lin, avowedly in conformity with Parisian custom. The hand- 
some and eloquent traveller, the grave hearers of all ages, 
and the gracefully-dressed women, made a deep impression 
on the lad, so that the picture is now vivid in all its colors 
before my mind. As far back as about 1780, the first men 
and women of taste and literature in Berlin had formed 
societies, in which lectures were delivered by members, and 
interesting works were read, by the ladies as well as by their 
companions. The celebrated Henriette Herz describes in her 
journal the one to which she belonged and which " the young 
Humboldts" visited. 

Sir James Mackintosh had then already delivered his lectures 
on the law of nations in Lincoln's Inn, not indeed to ladies, 
but to an audience including many of the most distinguished 
men of the country ; and his introductory lecture, published 
under the title of a Discourse on the Law of Nature and 
Nations, a gem-like production, sufficiently shows how high 
he esteemed faultless diction and a tasteful presentation of a 
scholar's theme. The Rev. Sydney Smith lectured not long 
after to an audience of both sexes on Moral Philosophy- 
And now men of all ranks in society, Thackeray, the Earl of 
Carlisle, Warren, and Lord John Russell deliver occasional 
lectures in London and in country towns. The bishop of 
Lincoln is delivering, so the last received papers state, at 
Nottingham a series of lectures to the working classes on the 
Evidences of Christianity. To what account the political 
occasional lecture can be turned to instruct and incite was 
proved by the Anti-Corn-Law League in the English struggle 
for free trade. The occasional lecture has acquired in our 
own country an influence similar to that in England. 

The frequent occasional oration, of which our people seem 
so fond, had prepared the ground for the occasional lecture. 
Vol. I.— 21 



322 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



It now covers the land ; it instructs, entertains, awakens, and 
incites, 1 and frequently, also, promotes that idle passiveness, 
which would learn by mere absorption, or looks for nothing 
but being entertained without the inconvenience of thinking 
or the discomfort of judging. Itinerant lecturers peddle their 
sham knowledge to the unawakened, and scientific gossip, 
garnished with buffoonery, decks itself with the semblance of 
imparting science. Yet it is with the lecture as with the book. 
It is there ; it forms a part of our cultural apparatus ; it can- 
not be thrown out again, and ought not to be flung away ; 
but we must endeavor to make it subservient to truth and 
earnest knowledge. Have we not feeble and even vicious 
preaching ? Have we not ranting lawyers ? But should we 
on that account abandon the pulpit, or give up the public 
administration of justice? While lecturing mountebanks 
traverse our land, an Everett is speaking to thousands on 
our greatest theme, on Washington, and a Benton wins the 
capitalist of Boston for his great scheme, the Pacific road, 
by the lecture — that lecture which has sent many a messenger 
of the gospel to the Isles of the Pacific, and by which even a 



1 A circular of Mr. Agassiz, issued last summer, stated that it was his desire to 
publish a work, under the title of Contributions to the Natural History of the 
United States, a copy of which would cost, when finished, $120, and that it 
would take the sale of seven hundred copies to cover the costs, without any re- 
muneration whatever to himself. Works on natural history, of any magnitude, 
have always commanded, in Europe, the most limited sale, and it was doubted, 
by most persons, whether the distinguished naturalist would receive as many as 
seven hundred subscriptions ; but, instead of seven hundred, nearly two thousand 
subscribers have sent in their names in this country. This is a stupendous fact 
in the history of literature, worthy of being placed by the side of the instance 
given in a preceding note, of individual munificence ; and I feel sure that the 
fame of Mr. Agassiz, however great and well founded, cannot alone account 
for it. The occasional lectures he delivered during some years, in different 
parts of the Union, prepared the ground for this magnificent subscription. They 
opened a large and entirely new view of nature to many thousands : they warmed 
the hearts toward this great and noble branch of knowledge. Buffon drew natu- 
ral history within the sphere of able writing, we might almost say of belles-let- 
tres ; Agassiz spread the highest and most philosophical view of natural history 
before the masses of the educated by the awakening and inciting lecture, by his 
own enthusiastic word of mouth. 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 



323 



Gould now leads men and women to the distant science of 
astronomy, and its solemn enchantments. The lecturing 
quack does not derogate from the merit of the true lecturer 
any more than the pot-house politician or the brawling patriot 
disgraces the high vocation of a Burke, a Patrick Henry, a 
Fox, or a Webster. All noble rivers, nature's own highways, 
have their muddy bogs. 

The library, with the reading-room and occasional lecture, 
existed when the modern athenaeum came into use with its 
kindred institutions. They seem to have chiefly sprung up 
after the downfall of Napoleon. The idea of founding insti- 
tutions for the continued instruction and culture of the 
practical man may have been foreshadowed in the " special 
schools," which existed before the indicated period in Ger- 
many. There were merchants' schools, schools for mechanics, 
for apothecaries, for farmers. Most of them have been given 
up, after long and patient experience, but schools of a high 
character for those who do not mean to enter one of the 
learned professions have remained, and are eminently flourish- 
ing and useful in the truest sense of the word. 

The establishment of mechanics' institutions and others of 
a similar kind is connected with the movement of which the 
society for the diffusion of useful knowledge, with Lord 
Brougham and Dr. Birkbeck among the leaders, was one of 
the results. The people were sick of bloodshed ; the soil of 
Europe was drenched with human gore. Let us have knowl- 
edge; let ms give knowledge to the masses, became the cries, 
and it is not impossible that the famous Polytechnic School in 
Paris, although established in the Revolution in order to lead 
a stream of knowledge into the many armies of France, had 
its share in this great movement of peace by its example of 
studiously imparting a high degree of knowledge without the 
admixture of that which is more particularly termed learning 
and erudition. 

I hasten now to the second topic which you have proposed 
to me — the uses of an athenaeum. I shall not detain you long. 
An athenaeum is one of the institutions resorted to for the 



324 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



diffusion of knowledge and cultivation of taste, and to descant 
on this in general, would it not be "praising the strength of 
Hercules" ? 

The benefits of athenaeums are, like those of all institutions, 
and almost all laws, of a direct, of an indirect, and of a pre- 
ventive character ; and who can say whether, as in a thousand 
other cases, as in that of foreign ministers, of punitory systems, 
of floriculture, the indirect or the preventive use does not out- 
weigh the direct ? That is the blessing of all good deeds that 
great as their direct uses may be, their indirect, preventive, 
and even reflective benefits are greater still and endless. 

The athenaeum offers means for farther and continued ac- 
quisition of knowledge chiefly to those who are engaged in 
practical pursuits and to those who enjoy otiiim y leisure, with- 
out that dignitas which the ancients meant from whom we 
derive the dictum which has become so trite. If it does this 
service to the latter, its uses are great, for nothing is more 
enfeebling than vacuity or that which approaches it. If it 
does the service to the former, its uses are equally great. 
Knowledge awakens, incites, and imparts alacrity, increases 
ingenuity, and quickens the blessed attribute of humanity, 
called attention. Knowledge quickens the mind of the mer- 
chant and the mechanic as much as that of the student, which 
is as important a use as the fact that with cultivated taste it 
renders men mansneti, it tames them, to make use of an ex- 
pressive term of Cicero. 

Knowledge, with reference to its quickening capacity, is 
similar to civil liberty. Why is it that the freest nations have 
been, with perhaps the single exception of the Romans, which 
can easily be accounted for, foremost in commerce and the 
ingenious arts ? It cannot well be, because there is a direct 
connection between civil liberty and commerce. When nations 
rise to civil liberty, when the people acquire a large share and 
influence in government, the first measure they resort to, at 
least in modern times, is almost invariably "protection," that 
is obstruction of trade, because the people, now having a share 
in government, naturally wish to see their interests taken care 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 325 

of, and all the popular yet fallacious arguments derived from 
comparison with visible things, such as money and pockets, 
tend to favor protection. Unshackled trade is always the 
second and higher stage of experience and analyzing reflec- 
tion. It must then be, because civil liberty has the general 
effect of fostering manly self-reliance and of quickening the 
brains of men, and because these two qualities are also im- 
portant elements of a lively, sagacious, enterprising commerce. 
A similar effect is produced by political freedom, and by 
knowledge and taste on the artisan. The freest cities in the 
Middle Ages produced those master-mechanics, whose works 
we admire to this day, and the fruitful effects of knowledge 
and taste spread among the votaries of the useful arts by the 
most enlightened governments in Europe, have been unan- 
swerably shown by accurate statistical tables, while in our 
own country it has been proved in several portions, for in- 
stance in Connecticut, that, all other things being equal, the 
best-schooled districts are also the most productive in an eco- 
nomical sense, even though the district should be chiefly en- 
gaged in a branch of industry no more elevated than cotton 
spinning. If, then, your institution contributes its modicum 
to the diffusion and incitement of knowledge, it contributes 
likewise its share to the promotion of commerce and the 
quickening of the arts and the mechanical branches. It is 
certainly unnecessary to mention before American citizens the 
essential influence which knowledge, taste, and all real civili- 
zation must forever exercise, in a popular government like 
ours, on that stability, that security of property and freedom, 
which lies beyond the law and above the law, and is greater 
than can be derived from the law, and that if you promote 
their diffusion you promote proportionately the cause of the 
commonwealth. 

There is, however, a subject of a political character on 
which I would desire to dwell for a moment in connection 
with the athenaeum. 

Liberty cannot and ought not to exist without parties. • 
Parties, taking the term as freed from factiousness, are the 



326 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

fulcrums of political levers. They are the fly-wheels of the 
political machinery. They are the counter-weights of the 
balance beam. But, whether useful or not, they are an un- 
alterable condition on which freedom is to be enjoyed, and 
can no more be avoided than schools in philosophy or the 
fine arts, or sects in religion. Yet, frail as we are, and ever 
prone to substitute the means for the ends, parties will have 
their severing, embittering, and dislocating effects, while all 
that is good or great calls for harmony, for good will, and the 
union of tempers. On the other hand, it is a well-established 
rule that there is nothing so tempering in its tendency as 
personal intercourse and contact, except where the highest 
passions pre-exist. In this respect, it seems to me, is the 
social use of an institution like yours of peculiar importance 
in our country. People who have spoken, written, and worked 
against one another will meet in your athenseum, will talk 
together, will shake hands, exchange opinions, and end with 
finding out that after all they have neither horns nor cloven 
feet, with which they depicted each other in their minds. 
They will think better of one another, and feel better toward 
one another, and in consequence, will feel better themselves. 
Lastly, as to the preventive character, the institution you 
are establishing will afford rational and beneficial pleasure, by 
reading, hearing, and conversing, to many who but for this 
rational recreation would have gone in search of irrational 
pleasure, with its manifold deteriorating and enslaving effects. 
Franklin said, against too great an extension of poor-houses, 
build pigeon-holes and pigeons will come. Let us turn his 
simile, for it is quite as true in a good sense. Build pigeon- 
holes for sensible and innocent recreation and culture, and 
pigeons will flock in. It has ever been found that better con- 
veyance and improved intercommunication is not only made 
use of by those who travelled before, or who desired to travel, 
but abstained from it because it was slow and irksome; but 
readier and swifter conveyance creates the desire and estab- 
lishes the necessity of travelling in many who otherwise 
would have felt no locomotive impulse, as cheapened produc- 



THE HISTORY AND USES OF ATHENAEUMS. 



327 



tion induces new necessaries. Many a congregation has com- 
menced with the building of a chapel and the opportunity of 
congregating. It will be so with your athenaeum, to which 
I heartily wish the fullest possible prosperity, as one who cor- 
dially desires success to the cause of humanity in all its varied 
manifestations and impulses, and to all its aids and energies. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE NECESSARY 
STUDIES IN FREE COUNTRIES. 1 

AN INAUGURAL ADDRESS DELIVERED ON THE 17TH OF FEB- 
RUARY, 1858, ON ASSUMING THE CHAIR OF HISTORY AND 
POLITICAL SCIENCE, IN COLUMBIA COLLEGE, NEW YORK. 



Gentlemen of the Board of Trustees, — We are again 
assembled to do honor to the cause of knowledge— to that 
sacred cause of learning, inquiry, and of training to learn and 
to inquire; of truth, culture, wisdom, of humanity. When- 
ever men are met together to give expression to their rever- 
ence for a great cause or to do homage to noble names, it is 
a solemn hour, and you have assigned a part in this solemnity 
to me. I stand here at your behest. No one of you expects 
that I should laud above all other sciences those which form 
my particular pursuit. Every earnest scholar, every faithful 
student of any branch, is a catholic lover of all knowledge. 
I would rather endeavor, had I sufficient skill, to raise before 
you a triumphal arch in honor of the sciences which you have 
confided to my teaching, with some bas-reliefs and some en- 
tablatures, commemorating victories achieved by them in the 



1 The author, requested by the board of trustees to prepare a copy of his in- 
augural address for publication, has given the substance, and in many places his 
words, as originally delivered, so far as he remembered them ; but some of his 
friends in the board heaving advised him not to restrict himself in the written 
address to the limits necessary for one that is spoken, he has availed himself 
of this liberty, in writing on topics so various and comprehensive as those that 
legitimately belong to the branches assigned to him in this institution. The 
extent of this paper will sufficiently indicate this. 

\Editorial note. The address as given in this volume, follows a copy on which 
Dr. Lieber had made many slight changes. — G.] 

329 



330 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES, 

field of common progress; taking heed, however, that I do not 
fall into the error of attempting to prove " to the Spartans 
that Hercules was a strong man." 

Before I proceed to perform the honorable duty of this even- 
ing, I ask your leave to express on this, the first opportunity 
which has offered itself, my acknowledgment for the suffrages 
which have placed me in the chair I now occupy. You have 
established a professorship of political science in the most 
populous and most active city of our whole, wide common- 
wealth — a commonwealth of an intensely political character; 
and this chair you have unanimously given to me. I thank 
you for your confidence. 

Sincere, however, as these acknowledgments are, warmer 
thanks are due to you, and not only my own, but I believe I 
am not trespassing when I venture to offer them in the name 
of this assemblage, for the enlargement of our studies. You 
have engrafted a higher and a wider course of studies on 
your ancient institution which in due time may expand into 
a real, a national university, a university of large foundation 
and of highest scope, as your means may increase and the 
public may support your endeavors. So be it. 

We stand in need of a national university, the highest 
apparatus of the highest modern civilization. We stand in 
need of it, not only that we may appear clad with equal dig- 
nity among the sister nations of our race, but on many 
grounds peculiar to ourselves. A national university in our 
land seems to have become one of those topics on which the 
public mind comes almost instinctively to a conclusion, and 
whose reality is not unfrequently preceded by prophetic 
rumor. They are whispered about ; their want is felt by all ; 
it is openly pronounced by many until wisdom and firmness 
gather the means and resolutely provide for the general 
necessity. There is at present in many countries of Europe 
an active movement in reference to university reforms ; others 
have institutions of such completeness as was never known 
before, and we, one of the four leading nations, ought not to 
be without our own, a university, not national, because es- 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE, 



331 



tablished by our national government ; that could not well be, 
and if it were, surely would not be well ; but I mean national 
in its spirit, in its work and effect, in its liberal appointments 
and its comprehensive basis. I speak fervently; I hope I speak 
knowingly ; I speak as a scholar, as an American citizen ; as a 
man of the nineteenth century in which the stream of knowl- 
edge and of education courses deep and wide. I have perhaps 
a special right to urge this subject, for I am a native of that 
city which is graced with the amplest and the highest univer- 
sity existing. I know, not only what that great institution does, 
but also what it has effected in times of anxious need. When 
Prussia was humbled, crippled, and impoverished beyond the 
conception of those that have never seen with their bodily 
eyes universal destitution and national ruin, there were men 
left that did not despair, like the foundation walls of a burnt 
house. They resolved to prepare even in those evil days, 
even in the presence of the victorious hosts, which spread 
over the land like an inundation in which the ramified sys- 
tem of police drew the narrow-meshed seine for large and 
small victims — even then to prepare for a time of resusci- 
tation. The army, the taxes, the relation of the peasant 
to the landholder, the city government and the communal 
government — all branches of administration — were reformed, 
and, as a measure of the highest statesmanship, the moral and 
intellectual elevation of the whole nation was decided upon. 
Those men that reformed every branch of government reso- 
lutely invigorated the mind of the entire realm by thorough 
education, by an all-pervading common school system, which 
carries the spelling-book and the multiplication table to every 
hut, by high schools of a -learned and of a polytechnical char- 
acter, and by universities of the loftiest aim. The universi- 
ties still remaining in the reduced kingdom were reformed, 
and a national university was planned, to concentrate the intel- 
lectual rays and to send back the intensified light over the land. 
It was then that men like Stein, one of the greatest statesmen 
Europe has produced, and the scholar-statesman, William 
Humboldt — his brother Alexander went to our Andes — and 



332 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES, 

Niebuhr, the bank officer and historian, and Schleiermacher, 
the theologian and translator of Plato, and Wolf, the enlarger 
of philology and editor of Homer, with Buttmann the gram- 
marian, and Savigny, the greatest civilian of the age, and 
Fichte and Steffens the philosophers, these and many more 
less known to you, but not less active, established the national 
university in the largest city of Prussia for the avowed pur- 
pose of quickening and raising German nationality. All his- 
torians as well as all observing contemporaries are agreed 
that she performed her part well. In less than seven years 
that maimed kingdom rose and became on a sudden one of 
the leading powers in the greatest military struggle on record, 
calling for unheard-of national efforts, and that great system 
of education, which rests like an arch of long span on the two 
abutments, the common school and the university, served well 
and proved efficient in the hour of the highest national need; 
and, let me add, at that period when the matrons carried even 
their wedding rings to the mint, to exchange them for iron 
ones with the inscription, " Gold I gave for Iron," the halls of 
that noble university stood empty and silent. Students, pro- 
fessors, all, had gone to the rescue of their country, and Na- 
poleon honored them by calling them in his proclamations, 
with assumed contempt, the school-boy soldiers. They fought, 
as privates and as officers, with the intelligence and pluck of 
veterans and the dash of patriotic youth, and when they had 
fought or toiled as soldiers toil, in the day, many of them 
sang in the nightly bivouac those songs that swell the breasts 
of the Germans to this hour. 

We are, indeed, not prostrated like Prussia after the French 
conquest, but we stand no less in need of a broad national 
institution of learning and teaching. Our government is a 
federal union. We loyally adhere to it and turn our faces 
from centralization, however brilliant, for a time, the lustre of 
its focus may appear, however imposingly centred power, that 
saps self-government, may hide for a day the inherent weak- 
ness of military concentrated polities. But truths are truths. 
It is a truth that modern civilization stands in need of entire 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 333 

countries ; and it is a truth that every government, as indeed 
every institution whatever is, by its nature, exposed to the 
danger of gradually increased and, at last, excessive action of 
its vital principle. One-sidedness is a universal effect of man's 
state of sin. Confederacies are exposed to the danger of 
sej unction as unitary governments are exposed to absorbing 
central power — centrifugal power in the one case, centripetal 
power in the other. That illustrious predecessor of ours, 
from whom we borrowed our very name, the United States of 
the Netherlands, suffered long from the paralyzing poison of 
disjunction, and was brought to an early grave by it, after 
having added to the stock of humanity such worshipful names 
as William of Orange, and De Witt, Grotius, De Ruyter, and 
William the Third. 1 There is no German within my hearing 
that does not sadly remember that his country, too, furnishes 
us with bitter commentaries on this truth; and we are not 
exempt from the dangers common to mortals. Yet as was 
indicated just now, the p 'atria of us moderns ought to consist 
in a wide land covered by a nation, and not in a city or a little 
colony. Mankind have outgrown the ancient city-state. 



1 Every historian knows that William of Orange, the founder of the Nether- 
lands' republic, had much at heart to induce the cities of the new union to admit 
representatives of the country ; but the "sovereign" cities would allow no rep- 
resentatives, unless noblemen, to the farmers and land-owners, who, nevertheless, 
were taking their full share in the longest and most sanguinary struggle for inde- 
pendence and liberty; but the following detail, probably, is not known to many. 
The estates of Holland and West Friesland were displeased with the public prayers 
for the Prince of Orange, which some high-Calvinistic ministers were gradually 
introducing, in the latter half of the seventeenth century, and in 1663 a decree 
was issued ordaining to pray first of all " for their noble high mightinesses, the 
estates of Holland and West Friesland, as the true sovereign, and only sovereign 
power after God, in this province ; next, for the estates of the other provinces, 
their allies, and for all the deputies in the assembly of the States General, and of 
the Council of State." 

" Separatismus," as German historians have called the tendency of the German 
princes to make themselves as independent of the empire as possible, until their 
treason against the country reached "sovereignty," has made the political history 
of Germany resemble the river Rhine, whose glorious water runs out in a number 
of shallow and muddy streamlets, having lost its imperial identity long before 
reaching the broad ocean. 



334 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Countries are the orchards and the broad acres where modern 
civilization gathers her grain and nutritious fruits. The 
narrow garden-beds of antiquity suffice for our widened 
humanity no more than the short existence of ancient states. 
Moderns stand in need of nations and of national longevity, 
for their literatures and law, their industry, liberty, and 
patriotism ; we want countries to work and speak, write and 
glow for, to live and to die for. The sphere of humanity has 
steadily widened, and nations alone can nowadays acquire 
the membership of that great commonwealth of our race 
which extends over Europe and America. Has it ever been 
sufficiently impressed on our minds how slender the threads 
are that unite us in a mere political system of states, if we are 
not tied together by the far stronger cords of those feelings 
which arise from the consciousness of having a country to 
cling to and to pray for, and unimpeded land and water roads 
to move on ? 

Should we, then, not avail ourselves of so well proved a 
cultural means of fostering and promoting a generous nation- 
ality, as a comprehensive university is known to be ? Shall 
we never have this noble pledge of our nationality? All 
Athens, the choicest city-state of antiquity, may well be said 
to have been one great university, where masters daily met 
with masters, and shall we not have even one for our whole 
empire, which does not extend from bay to bay like little 
Attica, but from sea to sea, and is destined one day to link 
ancient Europe to still older Asia, and thus to help com- 
pleting the zone of civilization around the globe ? All that 
has been said of countries, and nations, and a national univer- 
sity would retain its full force even if the threatened cleaving 
of this broad land should come upon us. But let me not 
enter on that topic of lowering political reality, however near 
to every citizen's heart, when I am bidden by you to discourse 
on political philosophy, and it is meet for me not to leave the 
sphere of inaugural generalities. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — This is the first time I am 
honored with addressing a New York audience, and even if I 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 335 

could wholly dismiss from my mind the words of the Greek, so 
impressive in their simplicity : It is difficult to speak to those 
with whom we have not lived — even then I could not address 
you without some misgiving. The topics on which I must 
discourse may not be attractive to some of you, and they 
cover so extensive a ground, that I fear my speech may 
resemble the enumeration of the mile-stones that mark the 
way, rather than the description of a piece of road through 
cultivated plains or over haughty alps. I, therefore, beg for 
your indulgence, in all the candor in which this favor can be 
asked for at your hands. 

It is an error, as common in this country as it is great, that 
every branch of knowledge, if recognized as important or 
useful, is for that reason considered a necessary or desirable 
portion of the college course of studies. It is a serious error, 
but I do not believe that it was committed by the trustees 
when they established my chair. 

College education ought to be substantial and liberal. All 
instruction given in a generous college ought to aim at stor- 
ing, strengthening, refining, and awakening the head and 
heart. It ought to have for its object either direct informa- 
tion and positive transmission of knowledge, for the purpose 
of applying it in the walks of practical life, or in the later 
pursuits of truth ; or it ought to give the beginnings of 
knowledge, and with them to infuse the longing to enter and 
traverse the fields which open before the student from the hill- 
top to which the teacher has led him ; or it ought to convey 
to him the method and skill of study — the scholar's art to 
which the ancient Vita brevis ars longa applies as emphatically 
as to any other art ; or its tendency ought to be the general 
cultivation and embellishment of the mind, and the formation 
of a strong and sterling character, Truth and Truthfulness 
being the inscription on the mansion of all these endeavors. 

It is readily understood that all teaching must be within 
the intellectual reach of the instructed, but it is a grave 
mistake to suppose that nothing should be placed before the 
pupil's mind but what he can actually comprehend in all its 



336 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

details. Life does not instruct us in this manner; the Bible 
does not teach us thus. There is a suggestive instruction, 
which, though occasional, is nevertheless indispensable. It 
consists in thoughts and topics of an evocative character, 
giving a foretaste and imparting hope. The power of stimu- 
lation is not restricted, for weal or woe, to definition. Sug- 
gestive and anticipating thoughts, wisely allowed to fall on 
the learner's mind, are like freighted sayings of the poet, 
instinctively recognized as pregnant words, although at the 
moment we cannot grasp their entire meaning. They fill us 
with affectionate suspicion. Napoleon was a master of the 
rhetoric of the camp, as Mackintosh calls it speaking of 
Elizabeth at Tilbury. His proclamations to the army are 
said to have had an electrifying effect on every soul in the 
camp, from the calculating engineer to the smallest drummer 
boy ; yet it is observed that every one of these proclamations, 
intended for immediate and direct effect, contains portions 
that cannot have been understood by his hosts. Are we then 
to suppose that these were idle effusions, allowed to escape 
from his proud heart rather than dictated for a conscious pur- 
pose ? He that held his army in his hand as the ancient 
Caesars hold Victoria in their palm, always knew distinctly 
what he was about when his soldiers occupied his mind, and 
those portions which transcended the common intellect of the 
camp had, nevertheless, the inspiriting effect of foreshadowed 
glory, which the cold commander wanted to produce for the 
next day's struggle. The same laws operate in all spheres, 
according to different standards, and it is thus that quickening 
instruction ought not to be deprived of foretokening rays. 

Those branches which I teach are important, it seems, in 
all these respects and for every one, whatever his pursuits in 
practical life may be. To me have been assigned the sciences 
which treat of man in his social relations, of humanity in all 
its phases in society. Society, as I use the term here, does 
not only mean a certain number of living individuals bound 
together by the bonds of common laws, interests, sympathies, 
and organization, but it means these and the successive gener- 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 337 

ations with which they are interlinked, which have belonged 
to the same portion of mankind, and whose traditions the 
living have received. Society is a continuity. Society is like 
a river. It is easy to say where the Rhine is, but can you say 
what it is at any given moment ? While you pronounce the 
word Mississippi, volumes of its waters have rolled into the 
everlasting sea, and new volumes have rushed into the river 
from the northernmost lake, Itasca, and all its vying tributaries 
to the east and west. Yet it remains the Mississippi. While 
you pronounce the word America, some of your fellow-beings 
breathe their last, and new ones are born into your society. 
It remains your society. How else could I, in justice, be 
called upon to obey laws made by lawgivers before I was born, 
and who therefore could not, by any theory or construction, 
represent me individually? I was not in existence, and there- 
fore could have neither rights nor obligations. But my so- 
ciety existed and it exists still, and those are, until repealed, 
the laws of my society. Society is not arbitrarily made up 
by men, but man is born into society ; and that science which 
treats of men in their social relations in the past, and of that 
which has successively affected their society, for weal or woe, 
is history. Schloezer, one of the first who gave currency to 
the word statistik, of which we have formed statistics, with 
a somewhat narrower meaning, has well said, History is con- 
tinuous Statistik; Statistik, History arrested at a given period. 

The variety of interests and facts and deeds which history 
deals with, and the dignity which surrounds this science, for 
it is the dignity of humanity itself in all its aspirations and 
its sufferings, give to this branch of knowledge a peculiarly 
cultivating and enlarging' character for the mind of the young. 

He that made man decreed him to be a social being, that 
should depend upon society for the development of his purest 
feelings, highest thoughts, and even of his very individuality, 
as well as for his advancement, safety, and sustenance; and for 
this purpose he did not only ordain, as an elementary principle, 
that the dependence of the young of man, and they alone of 
all mammals, on the protection of the parents, should outlast 
Vol. I. — 22 



338 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

by many years the period of lactation; and endowed him with 
a love and instinct of association ; and did not only make the 
principle of mutual dependence an all-pervading one, acting 
with greater intensity as men advance ; but he also implanted 
in the breast of every human being a yearning to know what 
has happened to those that have passed away before him, and 
to let those that will come after him know what has befallen 
him and what he may have achieved — the love of chronicling 
and reading chronicles. Man instinctively shows the conti- 
nuity of society long before the philosopher enounces it. The 
very savage honors the old men that can tell of their fathers 
and of their fathers' fathers, and tries his hand at record in 
the cairn that is to tell a story to his children's children. 
Why do the lonely Icelanders pass their uninterrupted night 
of whole months in copying Norman chronicles ? 

As societies rise the desire to know the past as a continuous 
whole becomes more distinct and the uses of this knowledge 
become clearer ; the desire becomes careful inquiry and col- 
lection ; mere Asiatic reception of what is given changes into 
Greek criticism ; the wish to inform future generations becomes 
skill to represent, until history, with the zeal of research, the 
penetration of analysis, the art and comprehension of repre- 
senting, and the probity of truth, is seen as the stateliest of 
all the muses. 

So soon as man leaves the immediate interests of the day 
and contemplates the past, or plans for future generations 
and feels a common affection with them, he rises to an en- 
nobling elevation. There is no more nutritious pabulum to 
rear strong characters upon than history, and all men of action 
have loved it. The great Chatham habitually repaired to 
Plutarch in his spare half-hours — he had not many — and with 
his own hands he prescribed Thucydides as one of the best 
books for his son to read and re-read in his early youth. The 
biographer of Pitt tells us that while at Cambridge he was in 
the habit of copying long passages from Thucydides the better 
to impress them on his mind, as Demosthenes before him had 
copied the whole. Thucydides is nourishing food. When 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 339 

we read one of our best historical books, when we allow a 
Motley to lead us through the struggle of the Netherlands, 
do we not feel in a frame of mind similar to that which the 
traveller remembers when he left the noisy streets of Rome, 
with the creaking wine-carts and the screaming street traffic, 
and enters the Vatican, where the silent, long array of lasting 
master-works awaits him ? Even the contemplation of crime 
on the stage of history has its dignity, as its contemplation on 
the stage of Shakspeare has. The real science and art of 
history is the child of periods of action. No puny time has 
produced great historians. Historians grow in virile periods, 
and if a Tacitus wrote under the corrupt empire it was Rome 
in her manhood that yet lived in him and made him the strong 
historian we honor in that great name. His very despondency 
is great, and he wrote his history by the light which yet 
lingered after the setting of Roman grandeur. 

There are reasons which make the study of history pecu- 
liarly important in our own day and in our own country. Not 
only is our age graced with a rare array of historians in 
Europe and in our hemisphere — I need hardly mention Nie- 
buhr, Ranke, and Neander, and Guizot, and Sismondi, Hallam, 
Macaulay, and the noble Grote, and Prescott, and Bancroft — 
but, as it always happens when a science is pursued with re- 
newed vigor and sharpened interest, schools have sprung up 
which in their one-sided eagerness have fallen into serious 
errors. There was a time when the greatest sagacity of the 
historian was believed to consist in deriving events of historic 
magnitude from insignificant causes or accidents, and when 
the lovers of progress believed that mankind must forget the 
past and begin entirely anew. These errors produced in turn 
their opposites. The so-called historical school sprung up, 
which seems to believe that nothing can be right but what 
has been, and that all that has been is therefore right, sacri- 
ficing right and justice, freedom, truth, and wisdom at the 
shrine of Precedent and at the altar of Fact. They forget 
that in truth theirs is the most revolutionary theory while they 
consider themselves the conservatives ; for what is new to-day 



340 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

will be fact to-morrow, and, according to them, will thus have 
established its historical right. 

Another school has come into existence, spread at this time 
more widely than the other, and considering itself the philo- 
sophical school by way of excellence. I mean those historians 
who seek the highest work of history in finding out a prede- 
termined type of social development in each state and nation 
and in every race, reducing men to instinctive and involuntary 
beings and society to nothing better than a bee-hive. They 
confound nature and her unchangeable types and unalterable 
periodicity with the progress and development as well as 
relapses of associated free agents. In their eyes every series 
of events and every succession of facts becomes a necessity 
and a representative of national predestination. Almost every- 
thing is considered a symbol of the mysterious current of 
nationality, and all of us have lately read how the palaces of 
a great capital were conveniently proclaimed from an imperial 
throne to be the self-symbolizations of a nation instinctively 
intent on centralized unity. It is the school peculiarly in 
favor with modern, brilliant, and not always unenlightened 
absolutism ; for it strikes individuality from the list of our 
attributes, and individuality incommodes absolutism. It is 
the school which strips society of its moral and therefore 
responsible character, and has led with us to the doctrine of 
manifest destiny, as if any destiny of man could be more 
manifest than that of doing right, above all things, and of 
being man indeed. The error into which this school has 
relapsed is not dissimilar to that which prevailed regarding 
ethics with the Greeks before they had clearly separated, in 
their minds, the laws of nature with their unbending necessity 
from the moral laws, and which is portrayed with fearful 
earnestness in the legend of CEdipus. 

Closely akin in historic ethics to the theory of historical 
necessity is the base theory of success. We are told, and 
unfortunately by very many that pretend to take philosophic 
views, that success proves justice; that the unsuccessful cause 
proves by the want of success its want of right. It is a con- 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 341 

venient theory for the tyrant ; but it is forgotten that if mere 
superiority of power over antagonists constitutes success, and 
success proves the right of the successful, the unpunished 
robber or the deceiver who cannot be reached by the law is 
justified. Conscience, says a distinguished writer in bitter 
irony, is a heavy clog chained to the leg of a man who wishes 
to stride along on the path of success. We are not told what 
length of time constitutes success. If there had been a Moni- 
teur de Rome in the second century of our era, Christianity 
must have been represented as a very unsuccessful movement. 
Nor are we allowed to forget the strong lesson of history that 
no great idea, no institution of any magnitude has ever pre- 
vailed except after long struggles and repeated unsuccessful 
attempts. 1 



1 Connected with this error, again, is the theory of Representative Men, which 
seems to be in great favor at the present time, and is carried to a remarkable de- 
gree of extravagance even by men who have otherwise acquired deserved dis- 
tinction. One of the most prominent philosophers of France has gone so far as 
to say that the leading military genius of an age is its highest representative — a 
position wholly at variance with history and utterly untenable by argument. 
The philosopher Hegel had said nearly the same thing before him. It would 
be absurd to say that Hannibal was the representative of his age, yet he was pre- 
eminently its military genius. Those are the greatest of men that are in advance 
of their fellow-beings and raise them up to their own height. Whom did Charle- 
magne represent ? The question whom and what did those men represent that 
have been called representative men, and at what time of their lives were they 
such, are questions which present themselves at once at the mention of this term. 
An English judge who, by his decision, has settled once for all a point of ele- 
mentary importance to individual liberty, so that his opinion and his decision 
now form part and parcel of the very constitution of his country, is to be con- 
sidered far more a representative of the spirit of the English people than Crom- 
well was when he divided England into military districts, and established a 
government which broke down the moment he breathed his last. The greater 
portion of those men who are called representative men have reached their his- 
torical eminence by measures consisting in a mixture of violence, compression, 
and, generally, of fraud; they cannot, therefore, have represented those against 
whom the violence was used, and little observation is required to know that or- 
ganized force or a well-organized hierarchy can readily obtain a victory over a 
vastly greater majority that is not organized. The twenty or thirty organized 
men at Sing-Sing, who keep many hundred prisoners, insulated by silence, in 
submission, cannot be called the representative men of the penitentiary. Nor 
must it be forgotten that the bad and the criminal can be concentrated in a leader 



342 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

The conscientious teacher must guard the young against 
the blandishments of these schools ; he must cultivate in the 
young the delight in discovering the genesis of things, which 
for great purposes was infused into our souls ; but he must 
show with lasting effect, that growth in history however well 
traced, however delightful in tracing, however instructive, and 
however enriching our associations, is not on that account 
alone a genesis with its own internal moral necessity, and 
does not on that account alone have a prescribing power for 
a future line of action. Whilst the teacher of history ought 
to stimulate the desire of tracing things through the periods 
of modification to their sources, he ought at the same time 
sedulously to point out that crime and folly have their genesis 
too, and decline and disintegration their laws, which make 
them natural but not legitimate ; and he ought, frequently, to 
point to the error which steals even into the best minds, of 
contracting a fondness for that which it has taken us great 
pains to trace, and of wishing for its continuance, simply for 
this reason. He, like every other teacher, must impressively 
warn against the conceit of ingenuity, and the desire of bend- 
ing facts according to a theory. I have dwelt upon this sub- 
ject somewhat at length, but those will pardon me who know 
to what an almost inconceivable degree these errors are at 
present carried even by some men otherwise not destitute of 
a comprehensive grasp of mind. 

If what I have said of the nourishing character inherent in 
the study of history is true ; if history favors the growth of 
strong men and is cherished in turn by them, and grows upon 
their affection as extended experience and slowly advancing 
years make many objects of interest drop like leaves, one by 



and represented by him, just as well as that which is good and substantial. The 
idea of representative men such as is now floating in the minds of men, is the 
result, in a great measure, of that unphilosophical coarseness which places the 
palpable, the vast, and the rapid above the silent and substantial genesis of things 
and ideas, thus leading to the fatal error of regarding destruction more than 
growth. Destruction is rapid and violent; growth is slow and silent. The 
naturalists have divested themselves of this barbarism. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 



343 



one ; if history shows us the great connection of things, that 
there is nothing stable but the progressive, and that there is 
Alfred and Socrates, Marathon and Tours, or, if it be not 
quaint to express it thus, that there is the microcosm of the 
whole past in each of us ; and if history familiarizes the mind 
with the idea that it is a jury whose verdict is not rendered 
according to the special pleadings of party dogmas, and a 
logic wrenched from truth and right — then it is obvious that 
in a moral, practical, and intellectual point of view it is the 
very science for nascent citizens of a republic. There are not 
a few among us who are dazzled by the despotism of a Caesar, 
appearing brilliant at least at a distance — did not even Plato 
once set his hopes on Dionysius ? — or are misled by the plau- 
sible simplicity of democratic absolutism, that despotism which 
believes liberty simply to consist in the irresponsible power 
of a larger number over a smaller, for no other reason, it 
seems, than that ten is more than nine. All absolutism, 
whether monarchical or democratic, is in principle the same, 
and the latter always leads by short transitions to the other. 
We may go farther ; in all absolutism there is a strong ele- 
ment of communism. The theory of property which Louis 
the Fourteenth put forth was essentially communistic. There 
is no other civil liberty than institutional liberty, all else is 
but passing semblance and simulation. It is one of our highest 
duties, therefore, to foster in the young an institutional spirit, 
and an earnest study of history shows the inestimable value 
of institutions. We need not fear.in our eager age and country 
that we may be led to an idolatry of the past — history carries 
sufficient preventives within itself — or to a worship of in- 
stitutions simply because they are institutions. Institutions, 
like the sons of men themselves, may be wicked or good ; 
but it is true that ideas and feelings, however great or pure, 
retain a passing and meteoric character so long as they are 
not embodied in vital institutions, and that rights and privi- 
leges are but slender reeds so long as they are not protected 
and kept alive by sound and tenacious institutions; and it 
is equally true that an institutional spirit is fostered and 



344 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

invigorated by a manly study of society in the days that are 
gone. 

A wise study of the past teaches us social analysis, and the 
separation of the permanent and essential from the accidental 
and superficial, so that it becomes one of the keys by which 
we learn to understand better the present. History, indeed, 
is an admirable training in the great duty of attention and 
the art of observation, as in turn an earnest observation of 
the present is an indispensable aid to the historian. A practi- 
cal life is a key with which we unlock the vaults containing 
the riches of the past. Many of the greatest historians in 
antiquity and modern times have been statesmen ; and Nie- 
buhr said that with his learning alone, and it was prodigious, 
he could not have understood Roman history, had he not 
been for many years a practical officer in the financial and 
other departments of the administration, while we all remem- 
ber Gibbon's statement of himself, that the captain of the 
Hampshire militia was of service to the historian of Rome. 
This is the reason why free nations produce practical, pene- 
trating, and unravelling historians, for in them every observing 
citizen partakes, in a manner, of statesmanship. Free coun- 
tries furnish us with daily lessons in the anatomy of states 
and society; they make us comprehend the reality of history. 
But we have dwelled sufficiently long on this branch. 

As Helicon, where Clio dwelt, looked down in all its 
grandeur on the busy gulf and on the chaffering traffic of 
Corinth, so let us leave the summit and walk down to Crissa, 
and cross the isthmus and enter the noisy mart where the 
productions of men are exchanged. Sudden as the change 
may be, it only symbolizes reality and human life. What else 
is the main portion of history but a true and wise account of 
the high events and ruling facts which have resulted from 
the combined action of the elements of human life ? Who 
does not know that national life consists in the gathered 
sheaves of the thousand activities of men, and that production 
and exchange are at all times among the elements of these 
activities ? 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 345 

Man is always an exchanging being. Exchange is one of 
those characteristics without which we never find man, though 
they may be observable only in their lowest incipiency, and 
with which we never find the animal, though its sagacity may 
have reached the highest point. As, from the hideous tattoo- 
ing of the savage to our dainty adornment of the sea-cleaving 
prow or the creations of a Crawford, men always manifest that 
there is the affection of the beautiful in them — that they are 
aesthetical beings ; or as they always show that they are re- 
ligious beings, whether they prostrate themselves before a 
fetish or bend their knee before their true and unseen God, 
and the animal never, so we find man, whether Caffre, Phoe- 
nician, or American, always a producing and exchanging 
being; and we observe that this, as all other attributes, 
steadily increases in intensity with advancing civilization. 

There are three laws on which man's material well-being 
and, in a very great measure, his civilization are founded. 
Man is placed on this earth apparently more destitute and 
helpless than any other animal. Man is no finding animal — 
he must produce. He must produce his food, his raiment, his 
shelter, and his comfort. He must produce his arrow and 
his trap, his canoe and his field, his road and his lamp. 

Men are so constituted that they have far more wants, and 
can enjoy the satisfying of them more intensely, than other 
animals ; and while these many wants are of a peculiar uni- 
formity among all men, the fitness of the earth to provide for 
them is greatly diversified and locally restricted, so that men 
must produce, each more than he wants for himself, and ex- 
change their products. All human palates are pleasantly 
affected by saccharine salts, so much so that the word sweet 
has been carried over, in all languages, into different and 
higher spheres, where it has ceased to be a trope and now 
designates the dearest and even the holiest affections. All 
men understand what is meant by sweet music and sweet 
wife, because the material pleasure whence the term is derived 
is universal. All men of all ages relish sugar, but those re- 
gions which produce it are readily numbered. This applies 



346 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

to the far greater part of all materials in constant demand 
among men, and it applies to the narrowest circles as to the 
widest. The inhabitant of the populous city does not cease 
to relish and stand in need of farinaceous substances though 
his crowded streets cannot produce grain, and the farmer who 
provides him with grain does not cease to stand in need of 
iron or oil which the town may procure for him from a dis- 
tance. With what remarkable avidity the tribes of Negro- 
land, that had never been touched even by the last points of 
the creeping fibres of civilization, longed for the articles lately 
carried thither by Barth and his companions ! The brute 
animal has no dormant desires of this kind, and finds around 
itself what it stands in need of. This apparent cruelty, al- 
though in reality it is one of the greatest blessings to man, 
deserves to be made a prominent topic in natural theology. 1 

Lastly, the wants of men — I speak of their material and 
cultural wants, the latter of which are as urgent and fully as 
legitimate as the former — infinitely increase and are by Provi- 
dence decreed to increase with advancing civilization ; so that 
man's progress necessitates intenser production and quickened 
exchange. 

The branch which treats of the necessity, nature, and effects, 
the promotion and the hindrances of production, whether it 
be based almost exclusively on appropriation, as the fishery ; 
or on coercing nature to furnish us with better and more 



1 Natural theology seems to have stopped with Paley. This branch is either 
destined to be abandoned, or it must extend with advancing knowledge. Agas- 
siz's argument of divine forethought being proved by the succession of types in 
the successive geological periods, which the great naturalist has given in the first 
volume of his Contributions to the Natural History of the United States, ought 
to occupy a prominent place in this science, which, moreover, as I have indicated 
above, ought to take within its fold those principles and laws founded in the 
relation which subsists between the organization of man and the material world 
around him, and which lead to the fonnation of society. Nor ought the fact be 
omitted which is perhaps the greatest of all, that man can commune with man, 
that is to say, that signs, the effects of thoughts and emotions, in him who com- 
municates, are capable of becoming causes of corresponding thoughts and 
emotions in him to whom communication is made. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 347 

abundant fruit than she is willing spontaneously to yield, as 
agriculture ; or on fashioning, separating, and combining sub- 
stances which other branches of industry obtain and collect, 
as manufacture ; or on carrying the products from the spot 
of production to the place of consumption ; and the character 
which all these products acquire by exchange, as values, with 
the labor and services for which again products are given in 
exchange, this division of knowledge is called political econ- 
omy — an unfit name ; but it is the name, and we use it. Polit- 
ical economy, like all the other new sciences, was obliged to 
fight its way to a fair acknowledgment against all manners 
of prejudices. The introductory lecture which Archbishop 
Whately delivered some thirty years ago, when he com- 
menced his course on political economy in the University of 
Oxford, consists almost wholly of a defence of his science 
and an encounter with the objections then made to it on 
religious, moral, and almost on every conceivable ground, 
or suggested by the misconception of its aims. Political 
economy fared, in this respect, like vaccination, like the 
taking of a nation's census, like the discontinuance of witch- 
trials. 

The economist stands now on clearer ground. Opponents 
have acknowledged their errors, and the economists them- 
selves fall no longer into the faults of the utilitarian. The 
economist indeed sees that the material interests of men are 
of the greatest importance, and that modern civilization, in all 
its aspects, requires an immense amount of wealth, and conse- 
quently increasing exertion and production, but he acknowl- 
edges that " what men can do the least without is not their 
highest need." 1 He knows that we are bid to pray for our 
daily bread, but not for bread alone, and I am glad that those 
who bade me teach Political Economy, assigned to me also 
Political Philosophy and History. They teach that the periods 
of national dignity and of the highest endeavors have some- 



x Professor Lushington in his Inaugural Lecture, in Glasgow, quoted in Mo- 
rell's Historical and Critical View of Speculative Philosophy. London, 1846. 



348 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

times been periods of want and poverty. They teach abun- 
dantly that riches and enfeebling comforts, that the flow of 
wine and costly tapestry, do not lead to the development of 
humanity, nor are its tokens; that no barbarism is coarser 
than the substitution of gross expensiveness for what is beau- 
tiful and graceful ; that it is manly character, and womanly 
soulfulness, not gilded upholstery or fretful fashion — that it 
is the love of truth and justice, directness and tenacity of pur- 
pose, a love of right, of fairness and freedom, a self-sacrificing 
public spirit and religious sincerity, that lead nations to noble 
places in history ; not surfeiting feasts or conventional refine- 
ment. The Babylonians tried that road before us. 

But political economy, far from teaching the hoarding of 
riches, shows the laws of accumulation and distribution of 
wealth ; it shows the important truth that mankind at large 
can become and have become wealthier, and must steadily 
increase their wealth with expanding culture. 

It is, nevertheless, true that here, in the most active market 
of our whole hemisphere, I have met, more frequently than in 
any other place, with an objection to political economy, on the 
part of those who claim for themselves the name of men of 
business. They often say that they alone can know anything 
about it, and as often ask : What is Political Economy good 
for ? The soldier, though he may have fought in the thickest 
of the fight, is not on that account the best judge of the dis- 
position, the aim, the movements, the faults, or the great con- 
ceptions of a battle, nor can we call the infliction of a deep 
wound a profound lesson in anatomy. 

What is Political Economy good for? It is like every other 
branch truthfully pursued, good for leading gradually nearer 
and nearer to the truth; for making men, in its own sphere, that 
is the vast sphere of exchange, what Cicero calls mansucti, and 
for clearing more and more away what may be termed the 
impeding and sometimes savage superstitions of trade and 
intercourse ; it is, like every other pursuit of political science 
of which it is but a branch, good for sending some light, by 
means of those that cultivate it as their own science, to the 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 349 

most distant corners, and to those who have perhaps not even 
heard of its name. 

Let me give you two simple facts — one of commanding 
and historic magnitude ; the other of apparent insignificance, 
but typical of an entire state of things, incalculably impor- 
tant. 

Down to Adam Smith, the greatest statesmanship had 
always been sought for in the depression of neighboring na- 
tions. Even a Bacon considered it self-evident that the en- 
riching of one people implies the impoverishing of another. 
This maxim runs through alPhistory, Asiatic and European, 
down to the latter part of the last century. Then came the 
Scotch professor who dared to teach, in his dingy lecture-room 
at Edinburgh, contrary to the opinion of the whole world, 
that every man, even were it but for personal reasons, is in- 
terested in the prosperity of his neighbors ; that his wealth, 
if it be the result of production and exchange, is not a with- 
drawal of money from others, and that as with single men so 
with entire nations — the more prosperous the one so much 
the better for the other. And his teaching, like that of an- 
other professor before him — the immortal Grotius — went forth, 
and rose above men and nations, and statesmen and kings ; it 
ruled their councils and led the history of our race into new 
channels ; it bade men adopt the angels' greeting : " Peace on 
earth and good will towards men," as a maxim of high states- 
manship and political shrewdness. Thus rules the mind; thus 
sways science. There is now no intercourse between civilized 
nations which is not tinctured by Smith and Grotius. And 
what I am, what you are, what every man of our race is in 
the middle of the nineteenth century, he owes in part to Adam 
Smith, as well as to Grotius, and Aristotle, and Shakspeare, 
and every other leader of humanity. Let us count the years 
since that Scotch professor, with his common name, Smith, 
proclaimed his swaying truth, very simple when once pro- 
nounced; very fearful as long as unacknowledged; a very 
blessing when in action ; and then let us answer, What has 
Political Economy done for man ? We habitually dilate on 



350 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

the effect of physical sciences, and especially on their applica- 
tion to the useful arts in modern times. All honor to this 
characteristic feature of our age — the wedlock of knowledge 
and labor ; but it is, nevertheless, true that none of the new 
sciences has so deeply affected the course of human events as 
political economy. I am speaking as an historian, and wish 
to assert facts. 

The other fact alluded to is one of those historical pulsa- 
tions which indicate to the touch of the inquirer the condition 
of an entire living organism. When a few weeks ago the 
widely-spread misery in the manufacturing districts of Eng- 
land was spoken of in the British house of lords, one that 
has been at the helm 1 concluded his speech with an avowal 
that the suffering laborers who could find but half days', nay, 
quarter days' employment, with the unreduced wants of their 
families, nevertheless had resorted to no violence, but on the 
contrary universally acknowledged that they knew full well 
that a factory cannot be kept working unless the master can 
work to a profit. 

This, too, is very simple, almost trivial, when stated. But 
those who know the chronicles of the mediaeval cities, and of 
modern times down to a period when most of us recollect, 
know also that in all former days the distressed laborer would 
first of all have resorted to a still greater increase of distress, 
by violence and destruction. The first feeling of uninstructed 
man, produced by suffering, is vengeance, and that vengeance 
is wreaked on the nearest object or person ; as animals, when 
in pain, bite what is nearest within reach. What has wrought 
this change ? Who, or what has restrained our own sorely 
distressed population from blind violence, even though unwise 
words were officially addressed to them, when under similar 
circumstances in the times of free Florence or Cologne there 
would have been a sanguinary rising of the " wool-weavers," 
if it is not a sounder knowledge and a correcter feeling re- 
garding the relations of wealth, of capital and labor, which 



Lord Derby, then in the opposition. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 351 

in spite of the absurdities of communism has penetrated in 
some degree all layers of society ? And what is the source 
whence this tempering knowledge has welled forth if not 
Political Economy? 

True indeed, we are told that economists do not agree; 
some are for protection, some for free trade. But are physi- 
cians agreed ? And is there no science and art of medicine ? 
Are theologians agreed ? Are the cultivators of any branch 
of knowledge fully agreed, and are all the beneficial effects of 
the sciences debarred by this disagreement of their followers? 
But, however important at certain periods the difference be- 
tween protectionists and free-traders may be, it touches, after 
all, but a small portion of the bulk of truth taught by Political 
Economy, and I believe that there is a greater uniformity of 
opinion, and a more essential agreement among the prominent 
scholars of this science, than among those of others, excepting, 
as a matter of course, the mathematics. 

If it is now generally acknowledged that Political Economy 
ought not to be omitted in a course of superior education, all 
the reasons apply with greater force to that branch which 
treats of the relations of man as a jural being — as citizen, and 
most especially so in our own country, where individual po- 
litical liberty is enjoyed in a degree in which it has never been 
enjoyed before. Nowhere is political action carried to a greater 
intensity, and nowhere is the calming effect of an earnest and 
scientific treatment of politics more necessary. In few coun- 
tries is man more exposed to the danger of being carried 
away to the worship of false political gods and to the idolatry 
of party than in our land, and nowhere is it more necessary 
to show to the young the landmarks of political truth, and 
the essential character of civil liberty — the grave and binding 
duties that man imposes upon himself when he proudly as- 
sumes self-government. Nowhere seem to be so many per- 
sons acting on the supposition that we differ from all other 
men, and that the same deviations will not produce the same 
calamities, and nowhere does it seem to be more necessary to 
teach what might well be called political physiology and politi- 



352 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

cal pathology. In no sphere of action does it seem to me more 
necessary than in politics, to teach and impress the truth that 
" logic without reason is a fearful thing." Aristotle said : The 
fellest of things is armed injustice; History knows a feller 
thing — impassioned reasoning without a pure heart in him 
that has power in a free country — the poisoning of the well 
of political truth itself. Every youth ought to enter the prac- 
tical life of the citizen, and every citizen ought to remain 
through life deeply impressed with the conviction that, as 
Vauvenargue very nobly said, " great thoughts come from the 
heart," so great politics come from sincere patriotism, and that 
without candid and intelligent public spirit, parties, without 
which no liberty can exist, will raise themselves into ends and 
objects instead of remaining mere means. And when the 
words party, party consistency, and party honor are substi- 
tuted for the word Country, and, as Thucydides has it, when 
parties use each its own language, and men cease to under- 
stand one another, a country soon falls into that state in which 
a court of justice would find itself where wrangling pleaders 
should do their work without the tempering, guiding judge — 
that state of dissolution which is the next step to entire dis- 
integration. Providence has no special laws for special coun- 
tries, and it is not only true as Talleyrand said : Tout arrive ; 
but everything happens over again. There is no truth, short 
of the multiplication table, that, at some time or other, is not 
drawn into doubt again, and must be re-asserted and re-proved. 

One of the means to insure liberty — that difficult problem 
in history, far more difficult than the insurance of despotism, 
because liberty is of an infinitely more delicate organization — 
is the earnest bringing up of the young in the path of political 
truth and justice, the necessity of which is increased by the 
reflection that in our period of large cities man has to solve, 
for the first time in history, the problem of making a high 
degree of general and individual liberty compatible with popu- 
lous cities. It is one of the highest problems of our race, 
which cannot yet be said to have been solved. 

Political philosophy is a branch of knowledge that ought 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 353 

to be taught not only in colleges; its fundamental truths ought 
to be ingrained in the minds of every one that helps to crowd 
your public schools. Is it objected that political philosophy 
ranges too high for boyish intellects ? What ranges higher, 
what is of so spiritual a character as Christianity? But this 
has not prevented the church, at any period of her existence, 
from putting catechisms of a few pages into the hands of boys 
and girls, so that they could read. 

We have, however, direct authority for what has been 
advanced. The Romans in their best period made every 
school-boy learn by heart the XII Tables, and the XII Tables 
were the catechism of Roman public and private law, of their 
constitution, and of the proud Jus Quiritium, that led the 
Roman citizen to pronounce so confidently, as a vox et invo- 
cation his Civis Romanics sum in the most distant corners of 
the land, and which the captive apostle collectedly asserted 
twice before the provincial officers. Cicero says that when he 
was a boy he learned the XII Tables ut carmen ?tecessaritim i 
like an indispensable formulary, a political breviary, and de- 
plores that at the time when he was composing his treatise 
on the laws, in which he mentions the fact, the practice was 
falling into disuse. Rome was fast drifting to Cesarean abso- 
lutism ; what use was there any longer for a knowledge of 
fundamental principles ? 

The Romans were not visionary ; they were no theorists; 
no logical symmetry or love of system ever prevented them 
from being straightforward and even stern practical men. 
They were men of singular directness of purpose and lan- 
guage. Abstraction did not suit them well. Those Romans, 
who loved law and delighted in rearing institutions and build- 
ing high-roads and aqueducts ; who could not only conquer, 
but could hold fast to, and fashion what they had conquered, 
and who strewed municipalities over their conquests, which, 
after centuries, became the germs of a new political civiliza- 
tion ; who reared a system of laws which conquered the west 
and their own conquerors, when the Roman sword had become 
dull ; and who impressed, even through the lapse of ages, a 
Vol. I. — 23 



354 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

practical spirit on the Latin church, which visibly distinguishes 
it from the Greek ; those Romans who declared their own 
citizens with all the Jus Romanum on them, when once en- 
rolled, the slaves of the general, and subjected them to a 
merciless whip of iron chains ; those Romans who could make 
foreign kings assiduous subjects, and foreign hordes fight well 
by the side of their own veterans, and who could be dispas- 
sionately cruel when they thought that cruelty was useful ; 
those Romans who were practical if there ever was a practical 
people, bade their schoolmaster to drive the XII Tables into 
the stubborn minds of the little fellows who, in their turn, 
were to become the ruling citizens of the ruling common- 
wealth, and we know, from sculptural and written records, in 
prose and metre, that the magistral means in teaching that 
carmen necessariiun was not always applied to the head alone. 
Let us pass to another authority, though it require a his- 
toric bound — to John Milton, whose name is high among the 
names of men, as that of Rome is great among the states of 
the earth. Milton who wrote as clear and direct prose, as he 
sang lofty poetry, who was one of the first and best writers on 
the liberty of the press against his own party, and who con- 
sciously and readily sacrificed his very eyesight to his country 
— Milton says, in his paper on Education, dedicated to Master 
Hartlib, 1 that, after having taught sundry other branches in a 



1 Mr. Evert A. Duyckinck, of this city, whom, while writing out this address, 
I had asked what he knew of " Master Hartlib," obligingly replied by a note, of 
which I may be permitted to give the following extract : 

"In D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature, Hartlib is called a Pole. Thomas 
Warton, in a note in his edition of Milton's Minor Poems, says Hartlib was a 
native of Holland, and came into England about the year 1640. Hartlib him- 
self tells us in a letter, dated 1660 (reprinted in Egerton Brydges's Censura Lit- 
eraria, iii. 54), that his father was a Polish merchant who founded a church in 
Pomerania, and, when the Jesuits prevailed in Poland, removed to Elbing, to 
which place his (Samuel Hartlib's) grandfather brought the English company of 
merchants from Dantzic. It would appear that Hartlib was born at Elbing, for 
he speaks of his father marrying a third wife (H.'s mother) after the removal 
from Poland proper, which third wife would appear to have been an English- 
woman. Hartlib speaks of his family being « of a very ancient extraction in the 
German empire, there having been ten brethren of the name of Hartlib, some of 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 355 

boy's education, " the next removal must be to the study of 
politics, to know the beginning", end, and reasons of political 
societies, that they (the learners) may not, in a dangerous fit 
of the commonwealth, be such poor, shaken, uncertain reeds, 
of such a tottering conscience, as many of our great counsel- 
lors have lately shown themselves, but steadfast pillars of the 
state." This pregnant passage ought not to have been written 
in vain. 

I could multiply authorities of antiquity and modern times, 
but is not Rome and Milton strong enough ? 

A complete course of political philosophy, to which every 
course, whether in a college or a university, ought to approx- 
imate, as time and circumstances permit, should wind its way 
through the large field of political science somewhat in the 
following manner. 

We must start from the pregnant fact that each man is made 
an individual and a social being, and that his whole humanity 
with all its attributes, moral, religious, emotional, mental, cul- 
tural, and industrial, is decreed forever to revolve between the 
two poles of individualism and socialism, taking the latter 



them privy councillors to the emperor.' Hartlib's mercantile life, I suppose, 
brought him to England. He was a reformer in church matters, and became 
attached to the parliament. ' Hartlib,' says Warton, • took great pains to frame 
a new system of education, answerable to the perfection and purity of the new 
commonwealth.' Milton addressed his Treatise on Education to him about 1650. 
In 1662, Hartlib petitioned parliament for relief, stating that he had been thirty 
years and upwards serving the state and specially setting forth the ' erecting a 
little academy for the education of the gentry of this nation, to advance piety, 
learning, morality, and other exercises of industry not usual then in common 
schools.' His other services were ' correspondence with the chief of note of for- 
eign parts,' ' collecting MSS. in all the parts of learning,' printing ' the best ex- 
periments of industry in husbandry and manufactures,' relieving ' poor, distressed 
scholars, both foreigners and of this nation.' " 

So far the extract from Mr. Duyckinck's letter. Plartlib was no doubt a German 
by extraction and education, and represents a type of men peculiar to the Refor- 
mation, and of great importance in the cause of advancing humanity. Milton 
must have felt great regard for this foreigner, but Milton had too enlightened a 
mind, and had learned too much in foreign parts, ever to allow a narrowing and 
provincial self-complacency to become a substitute for enlarging and unselfish 
patriotism. 



356 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

term in its strictly philosophical adaptation. Man's moral in- 
dividualism and the sovereign necessity of his living in society, 
or the fact that humanity and society are two ideas that can- 
not even be conceived of, the one without the other, lead to 
the twin ideas of Right and Duty. Political science dwells 
upon this most important elementary truth, that the idea of 
right cannot be philosophically stated without the idea of ob- 
ligation, nor that of duty without that of right, and it must 
show how calamitous every attempt has proved to separate 
them ; how debasing a thing obligation becomes without cor- 
responding rights, and how withering rights and privileges 
become to the hand that wields the power and to the fellow- 
being over whom it sways, if separated from corresponding 
duty and obligation. 

Right and duty are twin brothers ; they are like the two 
electric flames appearing at the yard-arms in the Medi- 
terranean, and called by the ancient mariners Castor and 
Pollux. When both are visible, a fair and pleasant course is 
expected ; but one alone portends stormy mischief. An in- 
stinctive acknowledgment of this truth makes us repeat with 
pleasure to this day the old French maxim, Noblesse oblige, 
whatever annotations history may have to tell of its disre- 
gard. 1 

That philosopher, whom Dante calls il maestro di color che 
samio, and whom our science gratefully acknowledges as its 
own founder, says that man is by nature a political animal. He 
saw that man cannot divest himself of the state. Society, no 
matter in how rudimental a condition, always exists, and so- 
ciety considered with reference to rights and duties, to rules 
to be obeyed, and to privileges to be protected, to those that 
ordain, and those that comply, is the political state. Govern- 
ment was never voted into existence, and the state originates 
every day anew in the family. God coerces man into society, 



1 In this sense at least Noblesse oblige was often taken, that feudal privileges 
over feudal subjects involved obligations to them, although it meant originally the 
obligations due to him who bestowed the nobility. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 357 

and necessitates the growth of government by that divinely 
simple law, which has been alluded to before, and consists in 
making the young of man depend upon the parents for years 
after the period of lactation has ceased. As men and society 
advance, the greatest of institutions — the state — increases in 
intensity of action, and when humanity falters back, the state, 
like the function of a diseased organ, becomes sluggish or acts 
with ruinous feverishness. In this tvvinship of right and duty 
lies the embryonic genesis of liberty, and at the same time 
the distinction between sincere and seasoned civil liberty, and 
the wild and one-sided privilege of one man or a class ; or the 
fantastic equality of all in point of rights without the steady- 
ing pendulum of mutual obligation. 

This leads us to that division which I have called elsewhere 
Political Ethics, in which the teacher will not fail to use his 
best efforts, when he discourses on patriotism — that ennobling 
virtue which at times has been derided, at other times declared 
incompatible with true philosophy or with pure religion. He 
will not teach that idolatrous patriotism which inscribes on its 
banner, Our country, right or wrong, but that heightened 
public spirit, which loves and honors father and mother, and 
neighbors, and country ; which makes us deeply feel for our 
country's glory and its faults ; makes us willing to die, and, 
what is often far more difficult, to live for it; that patriotism 
which is consistent with St. Paul's command: Honor all men, 
and which can say with Montesquieu, " If I knew anything 
useful to my country but prejudicial to Europe or mankind, I 
should consider it as a crime;" that sentiment which made the 
Athenians reject the secret of Themistocles, because Aristides 
declared it very useful to Athens, but very injurious to Sparta 
and to the other Greeks. The Christian citizen can say with 
Tertullian, Civitas nostra totus mwidiis, and abhors that pa- 
triotism which is at best bloated provincialism, but he knows, 
too, that that society is doomed to certain abasement in which 
the indifference of the blase is permitted to debilitate and de- 
moralize public sentiment. The patriotism of which we stand 
as much in need as the ancients is neither an amiable weak- 



358 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

ness, nor the Hellenic pride. It is a positive virtue demanded 
of every moral man. It is the fervent love of our own country, 
but not hatred of others, nor blindness to our faults and to the 
rights or superiorities of our neighbors. 

We now approach that branch of our science which adds, 
to the knowledge of the "end and reasons of political soci- 
eties," the discussion of the means by which man endeavors 
to obtain the end or ought to obtain it ; in one word, to the 
science of government, and a knowledge of governments 
which exist and have existed. The "end and reasons of politi- 
cal societies" involve the main discussion of the object of the 
state, as it is more clearly discerned with advancing civiliza- 
tion, the relation of the state to the family, its duties to the 
individual, and the necessary limits of its power. Protection, 
in the highest sense of the word, 1 both of society, as a whole, 
and of the component individuals, as such, without inter- 
ference, and free from intermeddling, is the great object of 
the civilized state, or the state of freemen. To this portion 
of our science belong the great topics of the rights as well as 
the dependence of the individual citizen, of the woman and 
the child ; of primordial rights and the admissibility or vio- 
lence of slavery, which, throughout the whole course of 
history wherever it has been introduced, has been a deciduous 
institution. The reflection on the duties of the state compre- 
hends the important subjects of the necessity of public educa- 
tion (the common school for those who are deprived of means, 
or destitute of the desire to be educated ; and the university, 
which lies beyond the capacity of private means); of the 
support of those who cannot support themselves (the pauper, 
and the poor orphans, and sick) ; of intercommunication and 
intercommunion (the road and the mail) ; of the promotion 



1 That I do not mean by this material protection only, but the protection of all 
interests, the highest no less so than the common ones, of society as a unit, as 
well as of the individual human being, will be well known to the reader of my 
Political Ethics. I do by no means restrict the meaning of protection to personal 
security, nor do I mean by this term something that amounts to the protection of 
an interest in one person to the injury of others. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 359 

of taste and the fine arts, and the public support of religion, or 
the abstaining from it; and the duty of settling conflicting 
claims, and of punishing those that infringe the common rules 
of action, with the science and art of rightful and sensible 
punition, or, as I have ventured to call this branch, of pen- 
ology. 

The comprehensive apparatus by which all these objects, 
more or less dimly seen, according to the existing stage of 
civil progress, are intended to be obtained, and by which a 
political society evolves its laws, is called government. I 
generally give at this stage a classification of all govern- 
ments, in the present time or in the past, according to the 
main principles on which they rest. This naturally leads to 
three topics, the corresponding ones of which, in some other 
sciences, form but important illustrations or constitute a 
certain amount of interesting knowledge, but which in our 
science constitute part and parcel of the branch itself. I 
mean a historical survey of all governments and systems of 
law, Asiatic or European ; a survey of all political literature 
as represented by its prominent authors, from Aristotle and 
Plato, or from the Hindoo Menu, down to St. Simon or 
Calhoun — a portion of the science which necessarily includes 
many historians and theologians on the one hand, such as 
Mariana, De Soto, and Machiavelli, and on the other hand 
statesmen that have poured forth wisdom or criminal theories 
in public speech, Demosthenes or Webster, Chatham, Burke, 
Mirabeau or Robespierre and St. Just. And lastly, I mean 
that division of our science which indeed is, properly, a sub- 
division of the latter, but sufficiently important and instructive 
to be treated separately — a survey of those model states 
which political philosophers have from time to time imagined, 
and which we now call Utopias, from Plato's Atlantis to 
Thomas More's Utopia, Campanula's Civitas Solis or Har- 
rington's Oceana to our socialists, or Shelley's and Coleridge's 
imaginings and the hallucinations of Comte. They are grow- 
ing rarer and, probably, will in time wholly cease. Superior 
minds, at any rate, could feel stimulated to conceive of so- 



360 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

called philosophical republics, in ages only when everything 
existing in a definite form — languages, mythologies, agricul- 
ture, and governments— was ascribed to a correspondingly 
definite invention, or, at times, to an equally definite inspira- 
tion, and when society was not clearly conceived to be a con- 
tinuity ; when far less attention was paid to the idea of 
progress, which is a succession of advancing steps, and to the 
historic genesis of institutions ; and when the truth was not 
broadly acknowledged that civilization, whether political or 
not, cannot divest itself of its accumulative and progressive 
character. 

This Utopology, if you permit me the name, will include 
those attempts at introducing, by sudden and volcanic action, 
entirely new governments resulting from some fanatical theory, 
such as the commonwealth of the anabaptists in Germany, or 
the attempts at carrying out Rousseau's equalitarian hatred of 
representative government, by Marat and Collot d'Herbois. 
They have all been brief and bloody. 

When the teacher of political philosophy discourses on the 
first of these three divisions he will not omit to dwell on the 
communal governments and the later almost universal despot- 
ism of Asia, which reduces the subject, both as to property 
and life, to a tenant at will ; he will dwell on the type of the 
city-state, prevailing in Greek and Roman antiquity, and the 
strong admixture of communism in those states, especially in 
the Greek ; he will show how that religion, whose founder 
proclaimed that his kingdom is not of this world, nevertheless 
affected all political organization far more than aught else has 
done, because, more than anything else, it affected the inner 
man, and that, in one respect, it intensified individualism, for 
it exalted the individual moral character and responsibility. 
Individual duties and individual rights received greater im- 
portance, and Christianity levelled all men before an omniscient 
judge and a common father. From the time when the wor- 
shipped emperor of Rome decreed that the Christians, then 
confounded with the Jews, should depart from Italy, because, 
as Suetonius says, they were Christo impulsore tumidtuantes, 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 361 

the Romans perceived that there was that in the Christian 
which made him bow before a higher authority than that of 
the Caesars. " Christ impelling them, they are disturbers" — 
yet they obeyed the law, as Pliny, the governor, writes to his 
friend and emperor, only they could not be induced to strew 
the sacred meal on the altar of Jove, and Christianity wrought 
on in the breasts of men, until Julian loses the battle, and as 
tradition at least says, exclaims in dying : " Oh Galilean, thou 
hast conquered !" 

The teacher will dwell on that type of government which 
succeeded and is the opposite to the ancient city-state — the 
feudal system with its graduated and subdivided allegiance ; 
and he will show how at last the period of nationalization 
arrived for governments and languages, and national govern- 
ments, with direct and uniform allegiance, at last developed 
themselves and became the accompaniments of modem civili- 
zation ; when real states were formed, compact governments 
extending over large territories. The ancients had but one 
word for state and city ; the mediaeval government is justly 
called a mere system (the feudal system) ; the moderns have 
states, whether unitary or confederated does not affect this 
point. 

When an account is given of the imaginary governments, 
which the greater or lesser philosophers have constructed as 
ideal politics, attention must be directed to the striking fact 
that all Utopists, from Plato to our times, have been more or 
less communists, making war upon money, although so shrewd 
and wise a man as Thomas More was among them ; and that 
most of these writers, even Campanella, though a priest of 
the Catholic church, and all societies in which communism 
has been carried out to any extent, have made light of mono- 
gamic wedlock, or have openly proclaimed a community or 
a plurality of wives. 1 We have our Protestant counterpart to 



1 Auguste Comte, who was generally considered the most serious and most 
able atheist yet known in the annals of science, as long as his Positive Philoso- 
phy was the only work that attracted attention, makes one of the exceptions. In 
his Catechism of Positive Religion, which belongs to the Utopian literature, pro- 



362 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Campanella in the Rev. Martin Madan, the author of Thelyp- 
thora, a Defence of a Plurality of Wives. Hostility to indi- 
vidualism in property has generally, in antiquity and modern 
times, been accompanied by a hostility to exclusive wedlock, 
and I believe I am not wrong when I add, very often by a 
leaning to pantheism, in the sphere of religion. But the 
Utopists are not only communists. Paley, who would have 
shrunk from being called a communist, nevertheless explains 
individual property on the mere ground of his " expediency" 
and in a manner which the avowed communists of our times 
— Quinesset and Proudhon — have been willing to accept, 
only they differ as to the expediency, and why not differ on 
that ? Paley and the larger portion of modern publicists 
maintained, and even Webster asserted on a solemn occasion, 1 
that property is the creature of government. But govern- 
ment is the agent of society, so that, if the same society 

claiming the regeneration and the reconstruction of all human society, and cover- 
ing it with the eegis of a paper-system rubricked according to a priestly socialistic 
Caesarism, nevertheless acknowledges monogamy, and individual property in a 
considerable degree. The work, however, amply makes up for these omissions 
by an incredible amount of inane vagaries, self-contradictions, and that apothe- 
osis of absolutism, " organizing" all things and allowing inherent life nowhere, 
which is the idol of Gallican sociologists, as the fallen Romans burnt incense to 
the images of their emperors even while living, or rather as long as they lived ; 
for, so soon as the emperor was dead, his memory was often senatorially cursed, 
and his images were decreed to be broken. Power was the only thing left, when 
the introduction of the many thousands of gods, from the conquered countries, 
neutralized all sense of religion, and power was worshipped accordingly. The 
Suetoniana of the nineteenth century are not wholly dissimilar. 

Nothing has probably ever shown so strikingly the inherent religious character 
of man as Comte's apotheosis of atheism, and his whole " catechism," sprinkled 
as it is with prayers to the " supreme being," which being, to be sure, is void of 
being and cannot, therefore, very well be possessed of supremacy. 

From time* to time great men have declared what they considered the greatest 
of evils. Aristotle says, " The fellest of things is armed injustice." Bacon 
declares that the greatest of evils is the apotheosis of error ; but, somehow, men 
seem always to contrive to prove that there may be still greater evils. 

1 It was the perusal of this assertion by Mr. Webster, in a speech in Ohio, in 
1828, which first led the author to reflections which were ultimately given in his 
Essays on Labor and Property. He totally denies that property is the creature 
of government. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 363 

should see fit to change the order of things, and to undo its 
own doing, no objection can be made on the ground of right 
and justice. Rousseau says, indeed, that the first fence erected 
to separate land from the common stock brought misery upon 
men, and Proudhon formulated this idea when he said : 
Property is theft; but the point of starting is common to all. 
The radical error of the communist consists in his exclusive 
acknowledgment of the principle of socialism, and his en- 
deavors to apply it even to that which has its very origin and 
being in individualism — to property. Man cannot exist with- 
out producing; production always presupposes appropriation; 
both are essentially individual, and where appropriation consists 
in occupation by a society as a unit, this is no less exclusive 
or individual property, with reference to all other societies, 
than the property held by a single man. The communist 
does not seem to see the absurdity of demanding common 
property for all men in France, upon what he considers philo- 
sophic grounds, yet excluding the rest of mankind from that 
property. The radical error of the individualist, on the other 
hand, is, that he wholly disavows the principle of socialism, 
and, generally, reasons on the unstable and shaking ground 
of expediency alone. He forgets that both, individualism and 
socialism, are true and ever-active principles, and that the very 
idea of the state implies both ; for, the state is a society, and 
a society consists of individuals who never lose their individual 
character, but are united by common bonds, interests, organi- 
zations, and a common continuity. A society is not repre- 
sented by a mass of iron in which the original particles of 
the ore have lost all separate existence by refinement and 
smelting ; nor is it represented by a crowd of units accident- 
ally huddled together. It is on the principle of 'socialism 
alone that it can be explained why I may be forced, and ought 
to be so, to pay my share towards the war which I may loathe, 
but upon which my state, my society has resolved. How 
will you explain that charity is no longer left wholly to 
depend upon individual piety, but that the government takes 
part of my property in the shape of a poor-tax, to support 



364 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

the indigent ? or how is the potent right of roads to be ex- 
plained ? that I must pay towards common education when I 
may educate my children in a private school or have none at 
all to be educated ? or towards a scientific expedition, or to 
support the administration of justice, when I may not have 
had a single lawsuit or when I might think it more convenient 
to return to the primitive age of private revenge? On what 
principle do you prohibit infamous books ? Why must I bear 
the folly of my legislators or submit to the consequences of a 
crude diplomatist? Why are we proud of the willing sub- 
mission of the minority after a passionately-contested presi- 
dential election ? The principle of socialism is interwoven 
with our whole existence ; for, it is a social existence. 

How, again, can we explain, if not on the ground of indi- 
vidualism, the very idea of rights, the protection of man, all 
the contents of all the bills of rights — the liberty of the press 
or communion, the freedom of worship or the right we have 
to slay the sheriff that breaks into our house with an illegal 
warrant? All taxation is founded on socialism, inasmuch as 
society takes by force, actual or threatened, part of my own, 
and on individualism, because it is proportioned according to 
the capacity of the individual to pay, and takes a lawful por- 
tion only. When the Athenian council decreed a liturgy, 
there was socialism indeed pretty strongly prevailing. The 
principle of individualism is everywhere, for our existence is, 
also, an individual one. We shudder instinctively at the idea 
of losing our individuality, and our religion teaches that we 
must take it with us beyond the limits of time. Even a 
heathen, a Hindoo law-giver, said long before our era: "Single 
is each man born ; single he dieth ; single he receiveth the 
reward of his good, and single the punishment for his evil 
deeds." 

The two principles of humanity, individualism and socialism, 
show themselves from the very beginning in their incipient 
pulsations, and as mankind advance they become more and 
more distinct and assume more and more their legitimate 
spheres. Individualism is far more distinct with us than in 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 365 

antiquity, in property and in the rights of man, with all that 
flows from them ; and socialism is far more clearly developed 
with us than with the Greeks or Romans, in primary educa- 
tion, charity, intercommunion, by the liberty of the press or 
the mail, the punitory systems, sanitary measures, public jus- 
tice, and the many spheres in which the united private wants 
have been raised to public interests, and often passed even into 
the sphere of international law. Christianity, which, histori- 
cally speaking, is the co-efficient of the highest power of 
nearly all the elements of humanity and civilization, has had 
an intensifying effect on individualism as well as on socialism. 
There is, perhaps, no more striking instance of a higher de- 
gree of individualism and socialism developed at the same 
time than in the administration of penal justice, which always 
begins with private revenge and gradually becomes public 
justice, when the government obliges every one to pay towards 
the punishment of a person that has directly injured only one 
other individual. Yet individualism is more developed in this 
advanced administration of justice, inasmuch as it always pro- 
nounces clearer and clearer, and more and more precautions 
are taken, that the individual wrong-doer alone shall suffer. 
There is no atonement demanded, as was the case with the 
Greeks, but plain punishment for a proved wrong, so that, if 
the crime is proved but not the criminal, we do not demand, 
on the ground of socialism, the suffering of some one, which 
the Greeks frequently did. 

Act on individualism alone, and you would reduce society 
to a mere crowd of egotistical units, far below the busy but 
peaceful inmates of the ant-hill ; act on socialism alone, and 
you reduce society to loathsome despotism, in which individ- 
uals would be distinguished by a mere number, as the inmates 
of Sing Sing. Despotism, of whatever name, is the most 
equalitarian government. The communist forgets that com- 
munism in property, as far as it can exist in reality, is a char- 
acteristic feature of low barbarism. Herodotus tells us what 
we find with existing savages. Mine and Thine in property 
and marriage is but dimly known by them. The communist 



$66 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

wants to " organize," as he calls it, but in fact to disindivid- 
ualize everything, even effort and labor, and a garden of the 
times of Louis XV., in which the ruthless shears have cramped 
and crippled every tree into a slavish uniformity, seems to 
delight his eye more than a high forest, with its organic life 
and freedom. Hobbes, who, two centuries ago, passed through 
the whole theory of all-absorbing power conveyed to one man 
by popular compact, which we now meet with once more in 
French Csesarism, defined religion as that superstition which 
is established by government, and we recollect how closely 
allied all despotism is to communism. The highest liberty — 
that civil freedom which protects individual humanity in the 
highest degree, and at the same time provides society with 
the safest and healthiest organism through which it obtains 
its social ends of protection and historic position — may not 
inaptly be said to consist in a due separation and conjunction 
of individualism and socialism. 1 

One more remark. It is a striking fact that the old adage, 
all extremes meet,' has been illustrated by none more forcibly 
than by the socialists ; for the most enthusiastic socialists of 
France, America, and Germany have actually come to the 
conclusion that there need be and ought to be no government 



1 It is for these reasons that the new term sociology seems to be inappropriate. 
Years ago it suggested itself to the author, when he desired to find a term more 
comprehensive and more compact than that of political philosophy, but he soon 
discarded it. If those French writers adopt it, in whose theories the idea of 
society absorbs almost all individualism, it is consistent. With them society, or 
the government which is its agent, whether monarchical or republican, is ex- 
pected and demanded to provide for everything, to organize all relations, and to 
do all things that can possibly be done by the government; but it is to be re- 
gretted that men like Lord Brougham have adopted the term. The national 
society ought not to be the all-absorbing one, nor is the jural society the only 
important society to which the individual of our race belongs. We belong to 
societies of great importance, which are narrower than the state, and to others 
which extend far beyond it, as is sufficiently shown by the religious society or 
church, the ceconomical society or society of production and exchange, the so- 
ciety of comity, the society of letters and science (for instance, in Germany or 
that which covers England and the United States), and the international society 
embracing all the Cis-Caucasian people. 



HISTORY AND POLITICAL SCIENCE. 367 

at all among men truly free, except, indeed, as one ot our 
own most visionary socialists naively adds, for roads and 
some such things. For them Aristotle discovered in vain 
that : Man is by nature a political animal. 

The political philosopher will now take in hand, as a sepa- 
rate topic, our own polity and political existence ; and this 
will lead to our great theme, to a manly discussion of Civil 
Liberty and Self-Government. We are here in the peristyle 
of a vast temple, and I dare not enter it with you at present, 
for fear that all the altars and statues and votive tablets of 
humanity, with all the marbled records of high martyrdom 
and sanguinary errors, would detain us far beyond the mid- 
night hour. It is our American theme, and we, of all men, 
are called upon to know it well, with all the aspirations, all the 
duties and precious privileges, all the struggles, achievements, 
dangers and errors, all the pride and humiliation, the checks 
and impulses, the law and untrammelled action, the blessings 
and the blood, the great realities, the mimicry and licentious- 
ness, the generous sacrifices and the self-seeking, with all 
these memories and actualities — all wound up in that one 
word Liberty. 

And now the student will be prepared to enter upon that 
branch which is the glory of our race in modern history, and 
possibly the greatest achievement of combined judgment and 
justice, acting under the genial light of culture and religion 
— on International Law, that law which, without the sword of 
justice, encompasses even the ocean. The ancients knew it 
not in their best time ; and life and property, once having left 
the shore, were out of the pale of law and justice. Even 
down to our Columbus, the mariner stood by the helm with 
his sword, and watched the compass in armor. 

Political science treats of man in his most important earthly 
phase ; the state is the institution which has to protect or to 
check all his endeavors, and, in turn, reflects them. It is 
natural, therefore, that a thorough course of this branch 
should become, in a great measure, a delineation of the his- 
tory of civilization, with all the undulations of humanity, from 



368 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

that loose condition of men in which Barth found many of 
our fellow-beings in Central Africa, to our own accumulated 
civilization, which is like a rich tapestry, the main threads of 
which are Grecian intellectuality, Christian morality and 
trans-mundane thought, Roman law and institutionality, and 
Teutonic individual independence, especially developed in 
Anglican liberty and self-government. 

Need I add that the student, having passed through these 
fields and having viewed these regions, will be the better pre- 
pared for the grave purposes for which this country destines 
him, and as a partner in the great commonwealth of self-gov- 
ernment? If not, then strike these sciences from your cata- 
logue. It is true, indeed, that the scholar is no consecrated 
priest of knowledge, if he does not love it for the sake of 
knowledge. And this is even important in a practical point 
of view ; for all knowledge, to be usefully applied, must be 
far in advance of its application. It is like the sun, which, 
we are told, causes the plant to grow when he has already 
sunk below the horizon ; yet I acknowledge without reserve, 
for all public instruction and all education, the token which I 
am in the habit of taking into every lecture-room of mine, to 
impress it ever anew on my mind and on that of my hearers, 
that we teach and learn : 

NON SCHOL^E SED VIM:, 1 V1T7E UTRIQUE. 



1 Seneca. 



THE ANCIENT AND THE MODERN TEACHER OF 

POLITICS. 

AN INTRODUCTORY DISCOURSE TO A COURSE OF LECTURES 
ON THE STATE. DELIVERED OCTOBER 10, 1859, IN THE LAW 
SCHOOL OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 



We are met together to discuss the State— that society 
which in infinite variety, from mere specks of social inception 
to empires of large extent and long tradition, covers the whole 
earth wherever human beings have their habitation — that 
society which more than any other is identified, as cause and 
as effect, with the rise and fall of civilization — that society 
which, at this very period of mingled progress and relapse, 
of bravery and frivolity, occupies the mind of our whole ad- 
vancing race, and which is the worthiest subject of contem- 
plation for men who do not merely adhere to instinctive 
liberty, but desire to be active and upright partakers of con- 
scious civil freedom. 

In the course of lectures which has been confided to me, 
we shall inquire into the origin and necessity of the 1 state and 
of its authority — is it a natural or an invented institution ? 
into the ends and uses of government and into the functions 
of the state — is it a blessing or is it a wise contrivance, indeed, 
yet owing to man's sinful state, as many fathers of the church 
considered all property to be ? or is it a necessary evil, destined 
to cease when men shall be perfected ? We shall inquire into 
the grandeur as well as into the shame of Political Man. We 
shall discuss the history of this the greatest human institution, 
and ultimately, take a survey of the literature appertaining to 
this enduring topic of civilized man. 

Vol. I.— 24 369 



370 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

This day I beg to make some preliminary remarks, chiefly 
intended to point out to you the position which, so far as I can 
discern, a public teacher of politics in this country and at this 
period either occupies of necessity or ought to occupy. 

Antiquity differs from modern civilization by no character- 
istic more signally than by these two facts, that throughout 
the former there was but one leading state or country at any 
given period, while now several nations strive in the career of 
progress abreast like the coursers of the Grecian chariot. The 
idea of one leading nation, or of a " universal monarchy," has 
been revived, indeed, at several modern periods, and is even 
now proclaimed by those who know least of liberty ; but it is 
an anachronism, barren in everything except mischief, and 
always gotten up, in recent times, to subserve ambition or 
national conceit. It has ever proved ruinous, and Austria, 
France, and Spain have furnished us with commentaries. 

The other distinctive fact is the recuperative energy of 
modern states. Ancient states did not possess it. Once de- 
clining, they declined with increasing rapidity until their ruin 
was complete. The parabola of a projectile might be called 
the symbol of ancient leading states — a curve, which slowly 
rises, reaches its maximum, and precipitately descends, not to 
rise again, while the line of modern civilization, power, and 
even freedom, resembles, in several cases, those undulating 
curves which, having risen to one maximum, do not forego 
the rising to another, though they decline in the mean time 
to a minimum. Well may we call this curve the symbol of 
our public hope. If it were not so, must not many a modern 
man sink into the gloom of a Tacitus ? 

Now, closely connected with these, and especially with the 
second fact, it seems to me, is this observation that in almost 
all the spheres of knowledge, action, or production the philos- 
ophizing inquirer in antiquity makes his appearance when the 
period of high vitality has passed. The Greek and Roman 
grammarians inquired into their exquisite languages when the 
period of vigorous productiveness in them, of literary creative- 
ness, was gone or fast going; when poets ceased to sing, his- 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 371 

torians ceased ' to gather, to compare and relate, and orators 
ceased to speak. The jurists collected, systematized, and tried 
to codify when a hale and energizing common law was giving 
rapidly way to the simple mandates and decrees of the ruler, 
or had ceased to be among the living and productive things ; 
the aesthetic writer found the canons of the beautiful when the 
sculptor and architect were stimulated more and more by 
imitation of the inspired masterworks created by the genius 
of by-gone days ; and Aristotle founds the science of politics 
(we can hardly consider Pythagoras as the founder) when 
Athens and all Greece were drifting fast towards the breakers 
where the Roman wreckers were to gather the still glorious 
wrecks; while Cicero writes his work of the Republic when that 
dread time was approaching in which (as a contemporary 
president of the French senate has officially expressed it), the 
Roman democracy ascended the throne in the person of the 
Caesars — rulers of whom we, speaking plain language, simply 
say that Tacitus and Suetonius have described them ; people, 
whether we call them democracy or not, broken in spirit and 
so worthless that they rapidly ceased to know how to work 
for their living, or to fight for their existence; rulers and 
people whose history bears the impressive title, Decline and 
Fall of the Roman Empire. Or was, forsooth, the republican 
period of Rome, merely preparatory for the glorious empire, 
sold at auction by the praetorians ? 

It is different in modern times, thank God ! Modern critics, 
philosophers, and teachers, in almost every branch, have lived 
while their age was productive, and frequently they have aided 
in bringing on fresh and sometimes greater epochs. In the 
science of politics this fact appears in a strong light. England 
has advanced in power, freedom, and civilization since Thomas 
More, Harrington, Milton, Bacon, Sidney, and Locke, William 
Temple, and even the latest of the last century, wrote and 
taught. France, whatever we may think of her present period 
of imperial transition and compressing absolutism, had far 
advanced beyond that state in which she was from the times 
of Bodinus and Montesquieu down to Rousseau or the Phys- 



372 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



iocrats, and will rise above the present period in which Guizot 
and De Tocqueville have given their works to her. Italy, 
however disappointed her patriots and friends may be at this 
moment, and however low that country, which is loved by our 
whole race, like a favorite sister of the family, had once sunk, 
stands forth more hopeful than, perhaps, she has done at any 
time since Thomas Aquinas 1 and Dante, 2 or Machiavelli, Paolo 
Sarpi, Vico, and all her writers down to Filangieri, that medi- 
tated on the state. If there are those who think that I have 
stated what is not warranted by the inadequate settlement of 
northern Italy — if, indeed, it prove a settlement — and by an 
arbitrary peace which, in its sudden conclusion by two single 
men, unattended by any counsellor of their own or represen- 
tative of any ally, in behalf of near ninety millions of people, 
presents absolutism and foreign rule more nakedly than any 
other fact in modern Europe that I remember, if the affairs of 
Italy be viewed in this light, I must point to the fact that in 
spite of all this arbitrariness, the question : Do the people wish 
for this or that government, this or that dynasty ? forces itself 
into hearing, and is allowed to enter as an element in the set- 
tlement of national affairs. It may indicate an imperfect state 
of things that this fact must be pointed out by the publicist as 
a signal step in advance; but it will be readily acknowledged 
as a characteristic change for the better, if we consider that in 
all those great settlements of the last century and of the present, 
by which the territories of the continental governments were 
rearranged, reigning houses were shifted, and states were made 
and unmade, Italy was consulted about herself no more than 
the princely hunter consults the hart which his huntsman cuts 
up for distribution among the guests and fellow-hunters. This 
century may yet see a united Italia, when at length it will 
cease to be di dolor ostello of that song of woe. 

Germany, with whatever feeling he that loves her may 
behold that noble country, robbed as she is of her rightful 



1 De Rebus Publicis et Principum Institutione Libri IV. 

2 De Monarchic. 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 373 

heirship and historic adumbration as a nation in full political 
standing among the peoples of the earth, for her own safety 
and honor, and for European peace and civilization, has never- 
theless advanced towards unity and freedom since the times 
of Grotius and Spinoza (I call them hers), and Puffendorff, 
Wolf, Schlozer, and Kant, and will advance beyond what she 
is in these days of Zachariae, Welcker, Mittermaier, and Mohl. 
Truth forces the philosopher to state the fact such as it is, 
although as patriot he finds it difficult to acknowledge the 
pittance of national political existence as yet doled out by 
modern history to that country whose present intellectual 
influence vies with the political she once possessed under the 
Hohenstaufen. 

The teacher of political science in these days, without 
amusing himself with shallow optimism, has then the encour- 
aging consciousness that his lot is not necessarily the mere 
summing up and putting on record of a political life of better 
and of by-gone days never to return, not to be surpassed. The 
historian, whom Schlegel calls the prophet of the past, may 
in our days also be the sower of fresh harvests. The teaching 
of the publicist may become an element of living statesman- 
ship; he may analyze essential fundamentals of his own 
society, of which it may not have been conscious, and the 
knowledge of which may influence future courses ; he may 
awaken, he may warn and impress the lesson of inevitable 
historic sequences, and he may give the impulse to essential 
reforms ; he may help to sober and recall intoxicated racers 
hurrying down on dangerous slopes, and he may assist the 
manly jurist and advocate in planting on the outlying downs 
of civil life those hardy blades which worry back each aggres- 
sive wave when walls of stone prove powerless against the 
stormy floods of invading power; he may contribute his share 
to the nautical almanac and the sailing directions for the prac- 
tical helmsman ; he may pronounce truths which legislators 
quote as guiding rules in the parliament of his own country, 
or statesmen when met in a congress of entire nations ; his 
teaching may modify, unconsciously to the actors themselves, 



374 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES, 

and even in spite of their own belief, the course of passion, or 
set bounds to the worst of all political evils, public levity, and 
popular indifference — if he will resolutely speak out the truth, 
and if he occupies a free position. Others must judge whether 
I am accustomed to do the one ; I think I occupy the other. 

Few public teachers of public law may have occupied a 
freer position than I do here before you. I belong to no party 
when teaching. All I acknowledge is Patria cara, carior 
libertas, Veritas carissima. No government, no censor, no 
suspicious partisan watches my words ; no party tradition 
fetters me ; no connections force special pleading on me. I 
am surrounded by that tone of liberality, with that absence of 
petty inquisition, which belongs to populous and active cities, 
where the varied interests of life, religion, and knowledge 
meet and modify one another. Those who have called me to 
this chair know what I have taught in my works, and that on 
no occasion have I bent to adjust my words to gain the appro- 
bation of prince or people. The trustees of this institution 
have called me hither with entire trust. Neither before nor 
after my appointment have they intimated to me, however 
indirectly, collectively or individually, by hint or question, or 
by showing me their own convictions, how they might wish 
me to tinge one or the other of the many delicate discussions 
belonging to my branches. I can gain no advantage by my 
teaching; neither title, order, or advancement on the one 
hand, nor party reward or political lucre on the other — not 
even popularity. Philosophy is not one of the high roads to 
the popular mind. All that the most gifted in my precise 
position could possibly attain to is the reputation of a just, 
wise, fearless, profound, erudite, and fervent teacher. This, 
indeed, includes the highest reward which he who addresses 
you will endeavor to approach as near as lies within him. 

But if the modern teacher of political science enjoys advan- 
tages over the teacher in ancient times, there are also diffi- 
culties which beset the modern teacher — some peculiar to our 
own period, and some to our own country at this time. 

Political science meets to this day with the stolid objection : 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 375 

What is it good for ? Are statesmen made by books, or have 
the best books been made by the best statesmen ? The name 
given to an entire party under Louis Philippe — the doctrinaires 
— seems to be significant in this point of view. You are, so 
we are told even by men of cultivated minds, not farther ad- 
vanced than Aristotle was ; and what must we think of the 
tree if we judge by its fruits, the fantastic conceptions of the 
so-called best state, with which the history of your science 
abounds? And Hume, the philosopher, said: "I am apt to 
entertain a suspicion that this world is still too young to fix 
any general truths in politics which will remain true to the 
latest posterity." But if the world is old enough to commit 
political sins and crimes of every variety, it cannot be too 
young to sink the shafts for the ore of knowledge, though the 
nuggets of pure truth may be rare. Does the miner of any 
other science hope for more? 

Some friends have expressed their surprise that in my 
inaugural address I should have considered it necessary to 
dwell on the dignity and practical utility of political science 
as a branch of public instruction. I confess their surprise 
astonished me in turn. Not more than twenty years ago, 
Dahlmann said that "the majority of men believe to this day 
that everything must be learned, only not politics, every case 
of which may be decided by the light of nature," meaning 
what is generally understood by common sense. Have things 
changed since these words were spoken ? As late as in the 
year 1852, De Tocqueville, when presiding over the Academy 
of Morals and Politics, occupied himself in his annual address 
chiefly with the consideration of the prejudices still prevailing, 
not only among the people at large, but among statesmen and 
politicians themselves, against the science and studies culti- 
vated by that division of the Institute of France; 1 and Hegel, 
esteemed by many the most profound and comprehensive 

1 Even the minor lucubrations of this excellent writer have acquired an addi- 
tional interest since death has put an end to his work. I would refer, therefore, 
to the National Intelligencer, Washington, 6th May, 1852, where the entire 
address alluded to is given. 



3 ;6 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

thinker of modern times, says, in his Philosophy of History, 
when speaking of that method of treating history which is 
called on the continent of Europe the pragmatic method, that 
" rulers, statesmen, and nations are wont to be emphatically 
commended to the teaching which experience offers in history. 
But what experience and history teach is this, that peoples 
and governments never have learned anything from history or 
acted on principles deduced from it. Each period is involved 
in such peculiar circumstances, exhibits a condition of things 
so strictly idiosyncratic, that its conduct must be regulated by 
considerations connected with itself, and itself alone. Amid 
the pressure of great events a general principle gives no hope. 
It is useless to revert to similar circumstances in the past. 
The pallid shades of memory struggle in vain with the life and 
freedom of the present." 

I have quoted this passage, which appears to me feeble 
and unphilosophical, for the purpose of showing that it is by 
no means useless to dwell, even in our age and in the midst 
of a civilized people, on the moral and practical importance, 
and not only on the scientific interest of the study of history 
and politics ; and must dismiss, at least in this brief introduc- 
tory lecture, a thorough discussion of these remarks — incon- 
sistent, since their author admits one teaching of history and 
experience ; suicidal to the philosopher, since they would 
extinguish the connection between the different " periods" ; 
and what becomes of the connection of the events and facts 
within each period ? what divides, philosophically speaking, 
the periods he refers to so absolutely from one another? 
what becomes of continuity, without which it is irrational to 
speak of the philosophy of history? — unhistorical, for every 
earnest student knows how almost inconceivably great the 
influence of some political philosophers, and of the lessons of 
great historians, has been on the development of our race ; 
unreal, since Hegel makes an intrinsic distinction between the 
motive powers of nations and states on the one hand, and of 
minor communities and individuals on the other; destructive, 
because what he says of political rules might be said of any 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 377 

rule of action, of laws, of constitutions ; and unpsychological, 
because he ignores the connection between principle and 
practice, the preventive and modifying effect of the acknowl- 
edged principle or rule, whether established by experience, 
science, or authority, and its influence, in many cases, in spite 
of the actor, not unlike Julian the Apostate, whom Chris- 
tianity did not wholly cease to influence, though he warred 
against it. 

Was ever usurpation stopped in its career of passion by a 
moral or political apothegm ? Possibly it was. The flashes 
of solemn truths sometimes cross the clouds of gathering 
crime and show how dark it is ; but whether or not, is not 
now the question. Was ever burglar, crowbar in hand, 
stopped in his crime by reciting the eighth commandment? 
Probably not, although we actually know that murder, already 
unsheathed, has been sheathed again ; but what is more im- 
portant for the connected progress of our race is, that millions 
have been prevented from fairly entering on the path of filch- 
ing or robbery by receiving at home and in the school the 
tradition of that rule, " Thou shalt not steal," and of the 
whole decalogue, as one of the ethical elements of their 
society, which acts, although unrecited, and even unthought 
of in a thousand cases, as the multiplication table or Euclid's 
elements act, unrecited and unremembered at the time, in the 
calculations of the astronomer or of the carpenter, and in the 
quick disposition which military genius makes in the midst 
of confused battles, or a sea captain beating in dirty weather 
through a strait of coral reefs. 

We Americans would be peculiarly ungrateful to political 
science and history were we to deny their influence. Every 
one who has carefully studied our early history, and more 
especially our formative period, when the present constitution 
struggled into existence, knows how signally appear the 
effects of the political literature on which, in a great measure, 
the intellects of our patriots had been reared, and how often 
the measures which have given distinctness and feature to 
our system were avowedly supported for adoption, by rules 



378 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

and examples drawn from the stores of history or political 
philosophy, either for commendation or warning. They had 
all fed on Algernon Sidney or Montesquieu ; they had all 
read or scanned the history of the United States of the 
Netherlands, whence they borrowed even our name. It is 
the very opposite to what Hegel maintains, and the finding 
of these threads is one of the greatest delights of the philo- 
sophic mind. 

Even if the science of politics were only, as so many 
mistake it to be, a collection of prescriptions for the art of 
ruling, and not quite as much of the art and science of obey- 
ing (why and when, whom and what, and how far we ought 
to obey) — but it is more than either — even then the science 
would be as necessary as the medical book is to the physician, 
or as the treatise on fencing, and the fencing-master himself, 
are to him who wishes to become expert in the art. No rule 
merely learned by heart will help in complex cases of highest 
urgency, but the best decision is made by strong sense and 
genius that have been trained. It is thus in grammar and 
composition. It is thus in all spheres. Every practitioner 
requires much which cannot be learned from books, and 
even this will be of no use unless cultivated by instruction 
or unless brought into play as opportunity offers. > Then nat- 
ural gift, theory, and interpretation by experience melt into 
one homogeneous mass of choice Corinthian brass, in 
which the component elements can no longer be distin- 
guished. 

Although I shall not attempt to teach, in this course, actual 
statesmanship, or what has been styled the art of ruling, yet 
that which perhaps the older English writers more especially 
meant by the word prudence, that is foresight [prudentia futu- 
rorum), must necessarily enter as a prominent element in all 
political discussions ; nor do I desire to pass on without 
guarding myself against the misconception that I consider 
the science, the knowing, as the highest aim of man. As 
mere erudition stands to real knowledge, so does knowing 
stand to doing and being. Action and character stand above 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 379 

science. Piety stands above theology; justice above jurispru- 
dence ; health and healing above medicine ; poesy above 
poetics ; freedom and good government above politics. 

One of the most serious obstacles in the way of a ready 
reception of political science with that interest and favor 
which it deserves for the benefit of the whole community, is 
the confounding of the innumerable theories of the " Best 
State," and of all the Utopias, from Plato's Republic to 
modern communism, with political science. There is a sus- 
picion lurking in the minds of many persons that the periods 
of political fanaticism through which our race has passed, 
have been the natural fruits of political speculation. But has 
the absence of political speculation led to no mischief, and not 
to greater ones ? Let Asia answer. Our race is eminently a 
speculative race, and we had better speculate about nature, 
language, truth, the state, mind and man, calmly and earnestly, 
that is, scientifically, than superstitiously and fanatically. One 
or the other our race will do. Brave jurists, noble historians, 
and free publicists have, to say the least, accompanied the 
rising political movement of our race, with their meditations 
and speculations. The most sinister despots of modern times 
have been, and are to this day, the most avowed enemies of 
political science. Inquiry incommodes them ; and although 
absolutism has had its keen and eloquent political philosophers, 
it is nevertheless true that the words embroidered on the fillet 
which graces the brow of our muse have ever been — In 
Tyrannos. 

On the other hand, is there any period of intense action 
free from those caricatures by which the Evil One always 
mocks that which is most sacred ? Is theology, is medicine, 
are the fine arts, was the early period of Christianity, was the 
Reformation, was ever a revolution, however righteous, was 
the revival of any great cause, the discovery of any great 
truth, free from its accompanying caricature ? The differen- 
tial calculus is a widely spread blessing to knowledge and our 
progress, yet it had its caricature in the belief of one of the 
greatest minds that it might be found a means to prove the 



380 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

immortality of the soul. The humanitarian, the theological 
and the political philosopher, know that the revival of letters 
and the love of Grecian literature mark a period most pro- 
ductive in our civilization, while the rise of modern national 
languages and literatures ushered in the new era, and has 
remained a permanent element of our whole advancement; 
yet Erasmus, the foremost scholar of his time, contemned the 
living speech of Europe, and allowed the dignity of language 
to none but the two idioms of antiquity. Our own age fur- 
nishes us with two notable instances of this historic caricature, 
appearing in the hall of history not unlike the grimacing 
monkey which the humorous architect of the Middle Ages 
sometimes placed in the foliage of his lofty architecture, near 
the high altar of the solemn cathedral. The history of labor, 
mechanical and predial, its gradual rise in dignity from the 
Roman slavery to its present union with science, is one of the 
golden threads in the texture we call the history of our race ; 
yet we have witnessed, in our own times, the absurd effort of 
raising physical labor into an aristocracy as absolute, and 
more forbidding, than the aristocracy of the Golden Book of 
Venice, an absurdity which is certain to make its appearance 
again in some countries. Should we on that account refuse to 
read clearly, and with delight, the rise of labor in the book 
of history ? Should we deplore the gradual elevation of the 
woman peculiar to our race, and all that has been written to 
produce it, because in our age it has been distorted by folly, 
and even infamy, or by that caricature of courtesy which 
allows the blackest crime to go unpunished because the 
malefactor happens to be a female, thus depriving woman of 
the high attribute of responsibility, and, therefore, degrading 
her? 

We honor science ; we go further, we acknowledge that no 
nation can be great which does not honor intellectual great- 
ness. Mediocrity is a bane, and a people that has no admira- 
tion but for victories gained on the battle-field, or for gains 
acquired in the market, must be content to abdicate its posi- 
tion among the leading nations. But no nation can be great 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 38 1 

that admires intellectual greatness alone, and does not hold 
rectitude, wisdom, and sterling character in public esteem. 
The list of brilliant despots, in government or science, always 
followed, as they are, by periods of collapse and ruin, is long 
indeed. 

The faithful teacher of politics ought to be a manly and 
profound observer and construer. His business does not lie 
with fantastic theories or empty velleities, except to note them 
historically, and thus to make them instructive. Aristotle 
says, and Bacon quotes his saying approvingly, that the nature 
of a thing is best known by the study of its details, and Cam- 
panella, whom I quote only to remind you how early the truth 
was acknowledged, observes that a thing consists in its history 
(its development), not in its momentary appearance, its phe- 
nomenon. Let us keep these two dicta before our eyes during 
our inquiries into the state, with this addition, that the knowl- 
edge of details yields fruitful acquisition only if it be gathered 
up in an ultimate knowledge of the pervading organism ; and 
that, however true the position of Campanella, we must re- 
member that politics is a moral science, and history, the record 
of political society, has not necessarily a prescribing character. 
Where this is forgotten men fall into the error of Symmachus 
pleading for Victoria, because the goddess of the forefathers, 
against the God of the Christians, because a new God ; but 
where men forget the importance of history, development 
becomes impossible, and dwarfish schemes will set men in 
restless motion, like the insects of corruption busy in disinte- 
grating mischief. 

I neither belong to the school of those who, acknowledg- 
ing free agency in the individual, teach, nevertheless, that 
nations follow a predestined fate, wholly independent of the 
beings composing them ; nor do I belong to the modern opti- 
mists who complacently see nothing but advancement in our 
dubious age. I neither believe the region of the state to 
resemble the Olympus with its suspended ethics ; nor do I 
belong to the retrospective school. I differ with those who 
follow Sismondi, a justly honored name, in the opinion that 



382 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

" every day must convince us more that the ancients under- 
stood liberty and the conditions of free government infinitely 
better than we do." The political progress of our race has 
been signal. How else can we explain these patent facts, that 
modern states with liberty have a far longer existence — where 
is the England of antiquity counting a thousand years from 
her Alfred, and still free ? — that liberty and wealth in modern 
nations have advanced together, which the ancients considered 
axiomatically impossible ; that modern liberty may not only 
advance with advancing civilization and culture, but requires 
them ; that, occasionally at least, modern states pass through 
periods of lawlessness without succumbing, or that, as was 
mentioned before, modern societies have risen again after 
having passed through depressed periods threatening ultimate 
ruin; that in modern times alone the problem has been 
solved, however rarely, of uniting progressive liberty with 
progressive order, which seemed to Tacitus a problem incapa- 
ble of solution ; that the moderns alone have shown the 
possibility of ruling large nations (not cities) with broadcast 
liberty; that in modern history alone we find civil liberty 
without enslaving the lower layer of society, and with the 
elimination of the idea of castes ; that in modern societies 
alone essential and even radical changes in the political 
structure are effected without razing the whole edifice to the 
ground; that moderns alone have found the secret of limiting 
supreme public power, in whomsoever vested, by the repre- 
sentative principle and institutional liberty ; that the moderns 
have discovered and developed the essential element of a 
lawful and loyal opposition, while the ancients knew only of 
political factions, not exchanging benches, but expelling or 
extirpating one another ; that in modern times alone we meet 
with a fair penal trial, and with that august monument of civil 
liberty, a well-guarded trial for high treason ; that the moderns 
have found the means of combining national vigor with the 
protection of individual rights ; and that by international law 
a " system of states," as Europe has been called, can exist 
whose members are entire sovereign nations? Much of all 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 383 

this is owing to the spread and development of Christianity, 
and we moderns are very far from doing all we ought to do, 
but this does not prove Sismondi's opinions to be confirmed. 

There are difficulties surrounding the teacher of politics, 
either exclusively belonging to our country, or at least pre- 
senting themselves here at present more decidedly. I ought 
not wholly to pass them over, for they show to what degree 
of indulgence a teacher is entitled ; but I shall select a few 
only, and treat of them as briefly as may be. 

I believe that the family of nations to which we belong has 
arrived at a period in its political development in which the 
only choice lies between institutional and firmly-established 
liberty, whether this be monarchical or republican as to the 
apex of the government on the one hand; and on the other 
hand, intermittent revolution and despotism, or shifting an- 
archy and compression, which, like the surgeon's tourniquet, 
may stanch the blood for a moment, but has no healing power, 
nor can it be left permanently on the lacerated artery without 
causing mortification and death. Expanding institutional 
liberty alone is now conservative. There has been a conflict 
between freedom and despotism during the whole history of 
our race ; but never before, it seems to me, have liberty, with 
all its fervor, and absolutism, with all its imposing power or 
sepulchral sculpture, stood directly opposite to one another so 
boldly, and perhaps so grandly, as at present. The advance 
of knowledge and intelligence gives to despotism a brilliancy, 
and the necessity of peace for exchange and industry give it 
a facility to establish itself which it never possessed before. 
Although the political inquirer and reflecting historian know, 
as well as the naturalist, that life consists in the unceasing and 
reproductive pulsation, in the ever active principle of vitality, 
not in the few brilliant phenomena or in striking eruptions, 
yet radiant success always attracts admiration for the time 
being. Absolutism in our age is daringly draping itself in the 
mantle of liberty, both in Europe and here. What we suffer 
in this respect is in many cases the after-pain of Rousseauism, 
which itself was nothing but democratic absolutism. There 



384 ACA DEMIC DISCO URSES. 

is, in our times, a hankering after absolutism, and a wide- 
spread, almost fanatical idolatry of success, a worship of will, 
whose prostrate devotees forget that will is an intensifier and 
multiplier of our dispositions, whatever they are applied to, 
most glorious or most abhorrent, as the case may be, and that 
will, without the shackles of conscience or the reins of a pure 
purpose, is almost sure of what contemporaries call success. 
It is so easy to succeed without principle ! It seems to me 
that those grave words in the solemn conclusion of De Tocque- 
ville's Old Regime have a far wider application at this time 
than the author gave to them. He says there that his coun- 
trymen are " more prone to worship chance, force, success, 
eclat, noise, than real glory ; endowed with more heroism 
than virtue, more genius than common sense ; better adapted 
for the conception of grand designs than the accomplishment 
of great enterprises." J 

While thus political elements are jostling and preparing us 
for a greater struggle, it appears that in our times men are 
more bent than formerly on taking refuge in mere political 
formulas, such as universal suffrage and a despot, or universal 
suffrage and an absolute party. But wherever the people, 
fatigued by contest or disorder, go to sleep on a mere polit- 
ical formula, there political life and health and — may I call it 
so ? — civil productiveness rapidly decline and approach extinc- 
tion, at the same time that those who still choose to act are 
arrayed against each other in all the bitterness which dogmatic 
formulas are apt to engender or to express. 

To attract attention in the midst of these gusts of passion 



1 I cannot dismiss this quotation without advising my younger friends to read, 
in connection with my remarks, the whole passage beginning with the words, 
"When I examine that nation." May they do it not only remembering that 
much that is said in it does not apply to the French alone, but also that De 
Tocqueville could say what he did say without being considered by the French 
unpatriotic. An American citizen could not have made similar remarks of the 
Americans without raising a storm of general indignation. No American student 
of political philosophy or history should be without that little volume, The Old 
Regime and the Revolution, by Alexis de Tocqueville, translated by John Bonner, 
New York, 1856. 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 385 

may not be an easy task. In addition I ought to mention, 
with reference to our own country, three points — flatter,y, dis- 
repute of politics, and a certain theory which has formed itself 
regarding the propriety of discussion. 

The people of this country have been flattered so long by 
optimist speakers, lecturers, and authors, and the vice of 
exaggeration has become so common, that philosophic can- 
dor is felt by many as a lack of patriotic sympathy. The 
sovereign, the prince, as old writers used to call the power- 
holder, be he monarch or the people, likes courtiers, flatterers, 
and adulators, and he finds them. Truth becomes irksome, 
and while it is deemed heroic boldly to speak to a monarch, 
he who censures the sovereign in a republic is looked upon as 
no friend to the country. 

Public affairs again have been frequently handled in such a 
manner and with such impunity that the word politician has 
acquired a meaning which reminds us of the Athenian times, 
when philosophers thought it necessary to advise the seekers 
after truth to abstain from the agora. In former times the 
term diplomatist was coupled with undesirable associations ; 
the word politician has now, in the minds of many, no envi- 
able meaning. I do not conceal from myself that to me falls 
the duty of teaching the science of public affairs at a period 
of depressed public mind. 

And lastly, it is a characteristic of our present public life 
that almost every conceivable question is drawn within the 
spheres of politics; when there, it is incontinently seized 
upon by political parties, and once within the grasp of parties, 
it is declared improper to be treated anywhere except in the 
arena of political strife. If it be treated elsewhere, in whatever 
spirit, it is taken for granted that the inquiry has been insti- 
tuted for grovelling party purposes. Fair and frank discussion 
has thus become emasculated, and the people submit to dic- 
tation. There is a wide class of topics of high importance 
which cannot be taken in hand even by the most upright 
thinker without its being suspected that he is in the service 
of one party or section of the country and hostile to the ot 1 ^r. 
Vol. I. — 25 



386 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

All this makes it — I do not say difficult to steer between 
the dangers ; an attempt at doing this would be dishonest — 
but necessary to ask for a fair and patient hearing. No teacher 
can at any time dispense with that " favorable construction," 
for which the commons of England petition the ruler at the 
beginning of each parliament. An honest desire to hear truly 
what the speaker means is indispensable wherever human 
speech bridges over the cleft which separates individual from 
individual, but it becomes the more necessary the more im- 
portant the sphere of discussion is, and is granted the more 
scantily the more exciting the topic may be. 

Montesquieu, in the preface of the Spirit of Laws, asks as a 
favor that a work of twenty years' labor may not be judged 
of by the reading of a moment, but that he may be judged by 
the whole. I too, placed in some respects more delicately 
than Montesquieu was, ask you to judge of the lectures which 
I am going to deliver by the whole and by the pervading 
spirit. My work is not, like Montesquieu's, a work of twenty 
years; it is more. Brief as this course will be, all I teach is 
the result of a long and checkered, an observing, and, I hope, 
a thoughtful, life. Montesquieu, when he asks for the favor, 
adds : " I fear it will not be granted." I do not make this 
addition to my request. I simply speak to you as to friends 
willing to hear what a man holds to be true and right in the 
region of political knowledge and action, the highest phase of 
which is civil freedom — a man who in his boyhood saw the 
flows and ebbs of the Napoleonic era and heard the European 
cry of oppression, and has from that great time to this longed 
or labored for liberty in speech and book, and in the teacher's 
chair, in prison and in freedom, well or wounded, in his native 
land and in his wedded country, and who feels that, as the one 
main idea through the whole life of him whom lately we have 
followed in our minds to his most honored grave, was the life 
of nature with all her energies, so has been the leading idea 
and affection of him who speaks to you, from his early days 
to this hour, in spite of all the reverses and errors of our race, 
political justice, the life of civil freedom — liberty, not as a 



THE TEACHER OF POLITICS. 387 

pleasing or even noble object to be pursued by classes freed 
from the oppressive demands of material existence, but as an 
element of essential civilization, as an earnest demand of self- 
respecting humanity, as an actuality and a principle of social 
life — as an evidence that we are created, not in the image 
of those beings that are below us, but of him that is high 
above us. 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT/ 
I. 

ADDRESS BEFORE THE AMERICAN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY, 

1859. 



"The whole earth is the monument of illustrious men." 
There are passages in the works of antiquity which, to our 
ears and minds, have the sound and depth of inspiration. 
They impress themselves on our souls, and, having faded in 
the lapse of years, they are restored to visible letters by cor- 
responding occasions on the paths of our lives. Such seem 
to me these words of Pericles, and such the occasion which 
has brought us together in this place. What Pericles said in 
his funeral speech of the men who had fallen, not for the de- 
fence, but for the glory of Athens, seems to apply in a double 
sense to Alexander von Humboldt. Wherever death occurs, 
or is remembered, there is solemnity, nor can we wholly free 
ourselves even from mourning when a revered man has left 



1 Dr. Lieber gave two public discourses commemorative of Humboldt. 

The first was addressed to the American Geographical Society, at a commem- 
oration held June 2, 1859. The presiding officer, Rev. Dr. Joseph P. Thompson, 
introduced the speaker with these words : 

" We have with us, also, one who has brought hither the stores of his native 
Germany to adorn the philosophic halls of one of our principal universities ; a 
gentleman whom New York is proud to adopt as a citizen, and who has already 
marked his name for history by his profound and lucid treatises upon Political 
Ethics, and the application of moral science to Civil Liberty and Self-Govern- 
ment. As a personal friend of Humboldt, most competent to appreciate and 
analyze his character, Professor Lieber has been invited to read a paper embody- 
ing his reminiscences of that distinguished man." 

The second address was delivered ten years later, in German, a\ the unveiling 
of a bronze bust of Humboldt, at the entrance of the Central Park, New York, 
Sept. 14, 1869. The English version which follows (p. 405) is the author's-, — (G.) 

389 



390 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



us, however full his measure of a favored life may have been. 
He lived so long and so large a life that generations over the 
whole globe have grown up familiar with his name, and we 
were so accustomed to it that our very intellects feel a degree 
of discomfort at presenting to our minds the world hence- 
forth as existing without him. There is a void without Hum- 
boldt. Yet it is one of the noblest delights for those who 
reflect, and love to be grateful, to trace the chief components 
of the monument of illustrious men to their authors — to find 
whence came the discoveries, inventions, conceptions, institu- 
tions, and endeavors of entire epochs in the field of culture, 
freedom, and truth. Who has not enjoyed the pleasure of 
finding the spots on the chart of human progress where you 
put down your finger and say, here is Aristotle, and here 
again ; here is Hildebrand, here is the conquest of Constanti- 
nople traced even in the discovery of our continent, even in 
Descartes and Bacon ; here are the causes and the effects of 
the university ; and to trace the lines of civilization radiating 
in different directions, from point to point ? And this delight 
we may enjoy when meditating on the period of which Hum- 
boldt was one of the most distinct exponents — we enjoy it 
even now, although he has left us but yesterday; for God 
allowed to him days so long that he passed into history before 
he passed away from among us. Humboldt died as old as 
Sophocles. 

Many of my young friends have asked me, as their teacher, 
and, indeed, many other friends have repeated the question, 
as I conversed with them on that news which on the day of 
its arrival attracted more interest than the accompanying ad- 
vice that the contest in the plains of Italy would soon begin — 
was he not the greatest man of the century ? 

I do not believe it is fit for man to seat himself on the bench 
in the chancery of humanity, and there to pronounce this one 
or that one the greatest man. If all men were counted to- 
gether, each one of whom has been called in his turn the 
greatest of all, there would be a crowd of greatest men. 
Mortals ourselves, we should call no one the greatest. His- 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 391 

tory is abstemious even in attributing simple greatness. But 
if it is an attribute of greatness to impress an indelible stamp 
on the collective mind of a race, and to give a new impulse 
to its intellect; if greatness, in part, consists in devising that 
which is good, large, and noble, and in perseveringly ex- 
ecuting it by means which in the hands of others would have 
been insufficient, and against obstacles which would have 
been insurmountable to others; if it is great to graft new 
branches on the trees of science and culture, leading the sap 
to form henceforth choicer fruit; if the daring solitude of 
lofty thought and loyal adhesion to its own royalty is a con- 
stituent of greatness ; if lucid common sense — the health and 
rectitude of our intelligence which avoids, in all directions, 
the Too-Much, is a requisite of greatness ; if rare and varied 
gifts, such as mark distinction when singly granted, showered 
by Providence on one man ; and if modest amenity, gracing 
these gifts and encouraging kindliness to every one of every 
nation, that proved earnestness in his pursuit, whether he had 
chosen nature or society, the hieroglyphics or the liberty 
of America, the sea and the winds, or the languages, astron- 
omy or industry, geography or history; if, in addition, an 
organizing mind, a power of evoking activity in the sluggish ; 
if sagacity and unbroken industry through a life lengthened 
far beyond that which the psalmist ascribes to a long human 
existence; if a good fame encircling the globe on its own 
pinions long before it is carried on by later history ; and if 
the conquests made in the realm of knowledge, so brilliant 
that they were not dimmed by the victories gained by the 
captain of the same period, who numbered the same years — 
if this makes up or proves greatness, then indeed we may say 
without presumption that one of the great men has been our 
own, one who was so favored an exemplar of humanity that 
he would cease to be an example for us, had he not mani- 
fested through his whole life of ninety years that unceasing 
labor, unvarying love of truth and advancement, and that 
kindness to his fellow-beings which are duties, and in which 
every one of us ought to strive to imitate him. 



392 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Courage, modesty, calmness, and will — the multiplier of 
every energy — noble aims, tenacity, disregard of wealth, and 
an adaptive pliability distinguished him through life. He 
sacrificed his fortune to his enterprise in South America — de- 
clining high appointments in the state, which were proffered 
to him even then — and to the publication of his costly works. 
The last letter which he wrote to a friend before sailing to 
our southern continent contains these words : "Man must will 
the Good and the Great; the rest comes as decreed/' When 
early in this century the Russian government invited him 
to travel in Asia, as he had travelled in America, he accepted 
the liberal offer, although the war with Napoleon prevented 
its execution ; and in his letter to the Russian minister of 
finances he says : " I shall go from Tobolsk to Comorin, even 
if I knew that out of nine persons only one should arrive." 
In another portion of the letter we find these words : " I shall 
make myself Russian, as I made myself Spaniard in America." 
When he delivered that memorable and long course of lectures 
in Berlin, which foreshadowed his Cosmos, and which was 
steadily attended by men and women, students, professors, 
and men of old age, by clergymen, and the king and court, 
his brother William wrote to a friend : " Alexander is really 
a puissance, and has gained a new species of glory by his 
lectures. They are unsurpassable. He is more than ever the 
old one, and it is, as it always was, a characteristic of his to 
have a reluctance, an apprehension, which he cannot get rid 
of, concerning this kind of public appearance." 

What an amount of thinking, observing, writing, travelling, 
and discovering he has performed, from that juvenile essay of 
his on the textile fabrics of the ancients, to the last line of his 
Cosmos, which reminds us of Copernicus reading the last 
proof-sheet on his deathbed shortly before his departure, or 
of Mozart, who in his darkened room directed with dying 
looks the singing of a portion of that requiem which he had 
in part composed, conscious that his ears would never hear 
its pealing sounds of resurrection. Let us, one and all, young 
and old, symbolize by the name of Humboldt the fact that, 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 393 

however untrue assuredly the saying is that genius is labor, 
it is true that the necessary' co-efficient of genius and of any 
talent is incessant diligence. We are ordained not only to eat 
the bread of our mouth in the sweat of our brow, but to earn 
in the same way the nourishing bread of the mind. This is 
no world of trifling ; it is a world of work ; and Humboldt, 
like the Greeks, whose intellectuality he loved to honor — 
whose Socrates loved to say : Arduous are all noble things — 
was a hard-working man, far harder-working than most of 
those who arro'gate the name to themselves. He ceased to 
work, and to work hard, only when he laid himself down on 
that couch from which he rose no more. 

It is not considered inappropriate, on occasions like this, to 
give distinctness to the picture by stating personal reminis- 
cences. Indeed I am informed that they would be gladly 
received. Allow me, then, to relate a very simple, yet charac- 
teristic fact. I visited Humboldt at Potsdam in the year 1844, 
when he had reached, therefore, the age of seventy-five ; for 
you know that he was born in that remarkable year of 1769 
in which Cuvierwas born, and Wellington, and Chateaubriand, 
and Napoleon — just ten years after Schiller; just twenty after 
Goethe. Humboldt told me at that time that he was engaged 
in a work which he intended to call Cosmos ; that he was 
obliged chiefly to write at night, for in the morning he studied 
and arranged materials, or received visitors, and in the evening 
he was expected to be with the king from nine o'clock to about 
eleven. After his return from the king he was engaged in 
writing until one or two, and even three o'clock. 1 



1 While this paper was printing, a volume was sent to me, which had that day 
arrived from Europe — Alexander von Humboldt, by H. Klencke, 3d edition, 
Leipsig, 1859. It so happened that the book, opened at random, presented a 
passage which I cannot refrain myself from giving to the American reader, how- 
ever unusual it may be to append a long note to papers of this sort. What the 
reader will find here is, probably, unique in the records of biography : 

"About thirty years ago (this was written in 1859) he regularly rose in summer 
at four o'clock, and received visits as early as at eight. Only eight years ago he 
said that, according to long experience, he could get along with four hours' sleep 
perfectly well. But his eighty-ninth year imposes at present restrictions upon 



394 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

All his friends said of him that he was a master in utilizing 
time and opportunity, whether travelling or at home ; whether 
in society or contemplating things. Yet no one could be less 
inquisitive than Humboldt, or less liable to be led away by 
trifles. 

Humboldt, when in Berlin or Potsdam, was retained, if I 
may use a professional term, to join the evening circle of the 
king during the indicated hours. It was all, I believe, he was 
expected actually to perform in return for the titles, honors, 
and revenue which he was enjoying, except that the monarch 
sometimes selected him as a companion on his journeys. Hum- 
boldt described to me the character of these royal evening 
reunions. Everything of interest, as the day brought it to 
notice, was there discussed. The drawing of a beautiful live- 
oak near Charleston, which a fair friend had made for me, was 
taken by Humboldt to that circle, where it attracted so much 
attention that he begged me to leave it ; and he told me that 
the volume describing our aqueduct, which my friend the 
author, now the president of our college, had given me at the 
time of its publication, and which I had then sent to Hum- 
boldt, had furnished the topic of discussion for an entire week. 
We collected, he said, all possible works on ancient and modern 
aqueducts, and compared, discussed, and applied for many 
successive evenings. Is there, then, a royal road to knowl- 
edge after all, when a Humboldt can be retained ? 

May I extend your supposed permission of giving personal 



him. Humboldt now rises at half past eight o'clock; while breakfasting he reads 
the letters which may have arrived, and is in the habit of replying to most of 
them immediately ; he then dresses himself with the assistance of his servant, 
in order to receive visits or make some himself. At two o'clock he is in the habit 
of returning home, and to drive at three o'clock to the royal palace, where he 
generally dines. Sometimes he presents himself at the table of some friend, 
chiefly that of the banker Mendelssohn (a descendant of the philosopher, Moses 
Mendelssohn). At seven o'clock in the evening he returns home, where he reads 
or writes until nine o'clock. He now goes again to court or to some company, 
whence he is not in the habit of returning much before midnight; and only now, 
in the stillness of night, begins his more especial literary activity ; he is engaged 
in his great works until three o'clock, when in summer the bright day greets him 
before he lies down for his short rest." 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 



395 



anecdotes, provided they are of a sufficiently biographical 
character, such as Plutarch, perhaps, would not have disdained 
to record ? I desire to show what interest he took in every- 
thing connected with progress. I have reason to believe that 
it was chiefly owing to him that the king of Prussia offered to 
me, not long after my visit, a chair to be created in the Uni- 
versity of Berlin, exclusively dedicated to the Science and 
Art of Punishment, or to Penology, as I had then already 
called this branch. 1 I had conversed with the monarch on 
the superiority of solitary confinement at labor over all the 
other prison systems, when he concluded the interview with 
these words : " I wish you would convince Mr. von Humboldt 
of your views. He does not entirely agree with them. I 
shall let him know that you will see him." 

Humboldt and prison discipline sounded strange to my ears. 
I went, and found that he loved truth better than his own 
opinion or bias, and my suggestion that so comprehensive a 
university as that of Berlin, our common native city, ought to 
be honored with having the first chair of Poenology, for which 
it was high time to carve out a distinct branch, treating of the 
convict in all his phases after the act of conviction, was seized 
upon at once by his liberal mind. He soon carried the min- 
ister of justice along with him, and the tempting offer to which 
I have alluded was the consequence. 

During this visit of mine to Berlin, Humboldt also urged 
me, after a long conversation which we had had on the trial 
by jury, to give my observations in a succinct paper for the 
king, and to indicate what glory it would be for him to give it 
to Prussia. When I hesitated — for such a step seemed to me 
very doubtful in its character for a simple traveller — he quickly 
remarked : " Never mind, send it to me ; I take it to-morrow 
myself to Charlottenburg. The king will carefully peruse it." 

It was the naturalist Humboldt who did and said this, and 
said it with encouraging warmth, contrasting with that super- 
ciliousness or circumscription of thought with which, from my 



In German I had given it the better name of Strafkunde. 



396 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

university days, I have occasionally heard distinguished nat- 
uralists declare that they never pay attention to "politics," 
never take notice of the broad stream of public affairs which 
courses past their observatory on the shore. Humboldt, so 
far as I know, has never fallen into the error of claiming an 
aristocratic privilege for the natural sciences — an error not 
uncommon in our times — nor did he view the connection be- 
tween nature and man in that light which has led contempo- 
raries of his to what may be called material predestination. 

A friend, whose name is perhaps more interwoven with the 
history of our canal than that of any one except Clinton, informs 
me that he had the pleasure of sitting by the side of Humboldt 
at a royal dinner at Charlottenburg. They were almost ex- 
clusively engaged in conversing on our great canal, and that 
greater one which ought to unite in everlasting wedlock the 
sturdy Atlantic and the teeming Pacific, having now yearned 
for one another for centuries. Humboldt spoke w T ith a knowl- 
edge of details and a sagacious discernment which was sur- 
prising to my friend, well versed in all the details of these 
topics. 

Although it has been stated by high authority that the 
works of Humboldt show to every one who can " read be- 
tween the lines" an endeavor to present nature in her totality 
unconnected with man, I cannot otherwise than state here 
that, on the contrary, it has ever appeared to me that this 
great man, studying nature in her details, and becoming what 
Bacon calls her interpreting priest, elevates himself to those 
heights whence he can take a comprehensive view of her in 
connection with man and the movements of society, with 
language, economy, and exchange, institutions and architec- 
ture, which is to man almost like the nidifying instinct to the 
bird. Humboldt's tendency in this respect seems to me in its 
sphere not wholly dissimilar to the view which his friend Ritter 
takes of geography in connection with history. And do we 
of this society not know with what interest and critical skill 
he pursued historical questions? Humboldt did not only 
view nature in her totality as she is; he did not only search 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 397 

her own history which has made her progressively that which 
she is (for the conception of successive geologic eras is his) ; 
but the history of man's knowledge of nature, the development 
of discoveries, and the growth of geography had an equal 
charm for his fine intellect. In these researches he showed 
the true spirit of the historian, for whom no detail is too small, 
and whose comprehensive mind allows no detail to lead him 
to historical trifling. Present him to yourselves at one time 
as standing on the high Andes, and his mind soaring in high 
circles like a sailing eagle ; at another time tracing, with ant- 
like industry, the beautiful name of our continent to the 
German schoolmaster that first proposed it. 

Humboldt, it would seem, could hardly be expected to stand 
in a different relation to the natural sciences. He was, with 
all his erudition and the grandeur of his knowledge, eminently 
a social man. I have found a passage in a paper, written by 
a diplomatist and highly-cultivated writer, Varnhagen von 
Ense, 1 which I feel sure will be listened to with interest. Von 
Ense describes his sojourn in Paris in the year 18 10, and 
says: 

" In the salons of Metternich (at that time Austrian ambas- 
sador near the court of St. Cloud) I saw Humboldt only as a 
brilliant and admired meteor, so much so that I hardly found 
time to present myself to him and whisper into his ear a few 
of those names which gave me a right to a personal acquaint- 
ance with him. Rarely has a man enjoyed in such a degree 
the esteem of all, the admiration of the most opposite parties, 
and the zeal of all in power to serve him. Napoleon does not 
love him ; he knows Humboldt as a shrewd thinker, whose 
way of thinking and whose opinion cannot be bent ; but the 
emperor and his court, and the high authorities in the state, 
have never denied the impression which they received by the 
presence of this bold traveller, by the power of his knowledge, 
and the light which seems to stream from it in every direction. 
The learned of all nations are proud of their high associate, 



1 Published in Raumer's Historical Annual for 1845. 



398 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



all the Germans of their countryman, and all Liberals of their 
fellow." ... u It has rarely been vouchsafed," continues Von 
Ense, "to a man in such a degree as to Humboldt to stand 
forth in individual independence and always equal to himself, 
and at one and the same time in scientific activity and in the 
widest social and international intercourse, in the solitude of 
minute inquiry, and in the almost confusing brilliancy of the 
society of the day ; but I know of no one who, with all this, 
has endeavored throughout his whole life to promote the prog- 
ress and welfare of our race so steadily, uniformly, and with 
such ample success." 

So far Von Ense. This picture is doubtless true, but we 
ought not to recall it to our memory without remembering at 
the same time one of his most prominent characteristics — his 
simplicity and amenity, so inherent in him that they were never 
dimmed, so far as I know, by the lustre of his talents or the 
energy of his thought. 

The most perfect image of social refinement, which I have 
to this day in my mind, is an early evening party at the villa 
of William von Humboldt, near the Lake of Tegel. Nature 
has not done much for that spot, but refined simplicity, cour- 
tesy, and taste, easy interchange of thought and experience, 
gemmed with sparkling converse, men of name, and women 
of attractive elegance and high acquirements, young and old, 
travellers, courtiers, artists, soldiers, and students, music, works 
of art, green lawns, and bright flowers, shrubbery and winding 
paths along smooth water or waving fields, and the Spes of 
Thorwaldsen, are the components of that scene in the midst 
of which the two illustrious Humboldts moved and delighted 
others as much as they seemed to be gratified, giving and 
receiving as all the others did, never condescending, never 
indicating a consciousness that they encouraged the timid, 
but showing how gladly they received additional knowledge 
from every one. 

The fact that Humboldt was born a nobleman was unques- 
tionably of great advantage to him, but it was of advantage to 
a Humboldt only, as it is undoubtedly an advantage to a man 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 



399 



that stands up for the people's rights, to be the descendant of 
ancient nobility. That noble birth, that connection with the 
court which aided Humboldt and his brother, has prevented 
thousands of persons, similarly born, from becoming earnest 
pursuers of high objects and deep inquiry. Alexander Hum- 
boldt threw himself at an early age into the ranks of the toiling 
workmen in the vineyard of knowledge and remained there, 
with all his titles and stars, to his end, thus doing on a more 
limited scale what that good founder of a republic did, who, 
though born a prince of the empire, became a citizen and 
patriot of such a type that, in the firmament of history, his 
name forms a double star with the name of Washington. 

Humboldt retained his freshness of mind and soul to his 
latest years. This was one of his greatest charms. No one, 
I believe, has ever heard the old man's complaint of changing 
times from his lips. He never sighed for the " good old times," 
although he had lived through changes in institutions and 
opinions, of systems and language, of men, manners, and even 
of dress, as no other prominent man. He received the living 
traditions of the great circumnavigator, Cook, through Forster, 
Cook's companion, and lived to gather facts for his Cosmos 
from the latest reports of the geological surveys of our states; 
he lived when Voltaire died, and must have grown up with 
many French ideas floating around him, for Humboldt was a 
nobleman whose family lived within the atmosphere of the 
Berlin court ; and he lived to witness the great revolutions in 
literature as well in Germany as in France and England ; he 
lived when Rousseau died (the same year when Voltaire de- 
ceased), and must have remembered, from personal observation, 
that homage which even monarchs paid (at a distance, it is 
true) to the Contrat Social ; and he outlived by some weeks 
De Tocqueville. He lived through the period of the Amer- 
ican Revolution ; was a contemporary of Washington and 
Adams, and a friend of Jefferson. He lived through the 
French Revolution and the age of the classic orators of 
Britain. He lived through the Napoleonic era and the resus- 
citation of Prussia and of all Germany. He studied under 



4 00 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

Werner, with whom mineralogy begins, and knew Houy. He 
knew Laplace, survived Arago and Gauss, and worked with 
Encke. He lived with Kant, and knew Schelling and Hegel. 
He knew Goethe and read Heine. He read Gibbon's Decline 
as a work of a living author, and perused Niebuhr, and later 
still praised Prescott. He grew up in the Prussian monarchy 
according to the type of Frederick the Great, and with the 
fresh reminiscences of the seven years' war, and left it changed 
in army, school, government — in everything. He saw the 
beginning of the Institute of France, and lived to be consid- 
ered by its associates as one of its most brilliant ornaments at 
its most brilliant period. He lived through the periods which 
distinctly mark the science of chemistry, from Lavoisier to 
Rose and Liebig. Humboldt was seventeen years old when 
the great king, perhaps the most illustrious despot of history, 
died so tired by the genius of his own absolutism, that we 
cannot forget the words of the dying king : " I am weary of 
ruling over slaves ;" and he lived through the whole period 
of growing popular sentiments and habits, of constitutional 
demands, and revolutionary, fearful conflicts. He wore the 
lace and ruffle of the last century, and the more practical dress 
of our times. Yet no one, I repeat, ever heard from him any 
useless regret for what had passed and was gone. I have 
heard him speak with warmth of noble things and men that 
he had known, but not with gloomy despair of the present or 
the future. 

There are men here around me of honored names in those 
sciences which Humboldt cultivated more especially as his 
own. I hope they will indicate to us how he infused a new 
spirit into them — how he immeasurably extended them — how 
he added discoveries and original conceptions ; but I, though 
allowed to worship these sciences in the pteroma only, and 
not as a consecrated priest, crave permission to say a few 
words even on this topic. 

Some fifteen years ago, Humboldt presided over the annual 
meeting of naturalists, then held at Berlin. In his opening 
speech he chiefly discoursed on the merits of Linnaeus. He 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 401 

knew of Linnaeus as Herodotus knew of Salamis and Ther- 
mopylae ; for the life of the great Swede overlapped by some 
ten years that of Humboldt, and all he there said of Linne 
seems to me to apply to himself with far greater force and on 
an enlarged scale. In that speech, too, I remember, he quoted 
his friend Schiller. Humboldt was, in a marked manner, of a 
poetic temperament. He not only analyzed and thought 
nature — he felt nature ; and what he had comprehended by 
thought and feeling he rendered in glowing presentations. I 
do not believe that without the poetic element he would have 
been able to receive those living impressions of nature, and to 
combine what was singly received in those vivid descriptions, 
and in language so true and transparent that they surprise the 
visitor of the scenes as, generation after generation, they are 
examined. He had that constructive imagination — I do not 
speak now of inventive fancy — without which no man can be 
great in any branch, whether it belong to nature or to history, 
to statesmanship or to the region of Watt's ingenuity. 

But yesterday an officer of our navy, whose profession has 
made him well acquainted with South America by sea and 
land, and with the Andes — one of the monuments of our 
illustrious man — told me that he knew of no descriptions, or 
rather characteristics, so true to living reality as Humboldt's 
Views of Nature, which he had perused and enjoyed on the 
spot. 

The power of collocation and shrewdness of connection, 
the knowledge of detail, and the absence of a desire to per- 
ceive things according to a system, the thirst for the knowledge 
of the life of nature, and the constant wish to make all of us 
share in the treasures of his knowledge — his lucid style, which 
may establish his Cosmos as a German classic — these seem to 
me to characterize Humboldt in his studies of nature, besides 
all that which he has done as a professional naturalist. 

Humboldt's name and life may be termed, with strict 

propriety of language, international. He lived for many 

successive years in France, and the French considered him 

one of theirs. He read and spoke English and Italian ; he 

Vol. I.— 26 



402 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



spoke and wrote Spanish with ease and correctness ; his many- 
French works are written, according to the judgment of the 
French themselves, with purity and elegance. He moved like 
a Frenchman in those few Parisian circles which, under the 
empire, still retained the charming esprit and courteous benev- 
olence of the circles of the eighteenth century. Indeed, Mr. 
Guizot, when speaking, in his Memoirs, of the company which 
was in the habit of meeting at Madame de Rumford's, the 
widow of Lavoisier, enumerates Lagrange, Laplace, Berthollet, 
Cuvier, Humboldt, and Arago. Many of the friends to whom 
Humboldt was most attached were Frenchmen; yet this was 
not at the expense of patriotism, even though his long sojourn 
in Paris was, partly, during the period of Prussia's humiliation 
by the armies of Napoleon. In that discourse at Berlin, which 
has been alluded to, he dwells with pride on the penetrating 
effect which the German mind has exercised on all the 
physical sciences no less than in the other branches. 

Humboldt was a dweller in kingly palaces — a courtier, if 
you choose, and a son of a courtier, without a taint of servile 
flattery or submission. He was rather the honored guest of 
royalty. He loved liberty, and considered it a necessary 
element of our civilization. He was a sincere friend of sub- 
stantial, institutional freedom. He thought that, with the 
widening of civil freedom, the knowledge and views of nature 
expand, and could expand only with it. But a few years ago, 
Humboldt, although a daily attendant upon the king, who had 
much at heart the support of his prime minister when the 
Liberals exerted themselves against the latter, went unosten- 
tatiously, but openly, to the poll, and voted for the Liberal 
candidate. The man of science, the old man, the titled friend 
of the king, the courtier, voted against the administration. 
His mind often travelled to this country, and that he loved 
America is sufficiently shown, were it not otherwise well 
known, by the singular love which the Americans bore to 
him. To me that little piece of news was inexpressibly 
touching, which simply informed us that our minister in 
Berlin with the Americans now present at that city — a cluster 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 403 

of mourners from afar — formed part of his funeral procession, 
the only foreign nation thus represented. 

In all the letters of Humboldt and all his sayings we trace 
high plans and noble ends, the good man and comprehensive 
thinker, anxious to obtain the living truth of the whole — of 
the entirety of nature. In his simplicity and genial warmth 
he did what many a bold man would have hesitated to do. 
I was present, as a young and distant listener, when at Rome, 
immediately after the congress of Verona, the king of Prussia, 
Humboldt, and Niebuhr conversed on the affairs of the day, 
and when the last mentioned spoke in no flattering terms of 
the political views and antecedents of Arago, who, it is well 
known, was a very advanced republican of the Gallican school, 
an uncompromising French democrat. Frederick William 
III. simply eschewed republicanism, yet when Niebuhr had 
finished, Humboldt said, with a sweetness which I vividly re- 
member : " Still, this monster is the dearest friend I have in 
France. ,, 

Humboldt had all his brother's views of the necessity of 
the highest university education, as well as the widest possible 
popular education, and he gave impulse to many a scientific, 
historical, or ethnological expedition, fitted out even by foreign 
governments, for he was considered the counsellor of all. 

But I cannot dwell here any longer on his versatility and 
manifold aptitude. It is proved by the literature of almost 
every branch. If we read Barth on Central Africa, we find 
Humboldt ; if we read Say's Political Economy, we find his 
name ; if we study the history of the nineteenth century, we 
find his name in the diplomacy of Prussia and France ; if we 
read general literature, we find his name in connection with 
Schiller and Madame de Stael ; if we look at modern maps, 
we find his isothermal and magnetic lines; if we consult 
Grimm's Dictionary of the German Language, we find Hum- 
boldt as authority. 

That period has arrived to which Croesus alluded in the 
memorable exclamation, Oh, Solon, Solon, Solon ! and we are 
now allowed to say that Humboldt was one of the most gifted, 



404 



ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 



most fortunate, and most favored mortals — favored even with 
comeliness, with a brow so exquisitely chiselled that, irre- 
spective of its being the symbol of lofty thought, it is pleasant 
to look upon — favored even in his name, so easily uttered by 
all the nations which were destined to pronounce it. 

When we pray not only for the kindly fruits of the earth, 
but also, as we ought to do, for the kindly fruits of the mind, 
let us all gratefully remember that He who gives all blessed 
things has given to our age and to all posterity such a man 
as Humboldt. 



II. 



ADDRESS WHEN A BUST OF HUMBOLDT WAS PLACED IN THE 
CENTRAL PARK, NEW YORK. 1869. 



Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, — The beautiful 
bust has been unveiled, and now displays the noble features 
of the great man whose birth, one hundred years ago, we 
celebrate this day. Three spots on this globe are pre-em- 
inently fit and entitled to erect a monument to Alexander 
Humboldt : — Berlin, his birthplace, and where he passed the 
largest portion of his laborious life ; Paris, which he consid- 
ered almost as much his own as Berlin ; and this park, which 
the people have royally laid out for themselves. It is the 
fairest portion of this international town — the foremost city 
of the country he loved so well, of the whole continent, the 
field of his glory. Humboldt, though a German in his linea- 
ments of character and talents, was of all modern men the 
one whose endeavors, aspirations, and fame were least limited 
by national demarcations. If we take the word Catholic in 
a sense agreeable to its etymology, he was the most catholic 
man in modern times. Europe, Asia, and America were 
equally his, by visit and discovery. He wrote scientific dis- 
sertations with equal satisfaction in German, French, and 
Spanish. New York is far the most international, or, as the 
Greeks would have expressed it, all-national 'place in the world, 
where Asiatics, Africans, and Europeans meet, travelling east- 
ward or westward. This is the fitness, real and symbolical, 
of the place where we now stand for the monumental image 
of Alexander Humboldt. 

Humboldt is one of the magnates in the history of our race ; 

405 



4 o6 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

and as this race spreads farther and farther over the globe, so 
he will be a magnate in the truly universal history of our kind 
— in the history of progress, which, like the rays of the sun, 
spreads as it rises and advances. He is not one of those men, 
the rise of whose name only keeps pace with the sweeping 
harm they inflict, because their own name is their own object. 

Humboldt was a fortunate man ; he was great, he was kind, 
liberal in every way, laborious, of vivid perception, a man of 
the highest culture and of aesthetic taste. 

He was fortunate in his birth ; it fell in the middle of that 
century which is marked at the outset by the Act of Settle- 
ment in England — limiting, at least, the power of the crown, 
if not yet increasing the liberties of the people ; by the founda- 
tion of the kingdom of Prussia, so soon to take a leading 
part; and by the pitiful war of the Spanish Succession on 
the one hand, and the latter portion of which, on the other 
hand, is signalized by the American and French Revolutions 
— two of the three greatest revolutions our European race, 
prone to revolutions compared to Asia, which only knows 
seraglio conspiracies, has so far ventured on. The eighteenth 
is possibly the most moving century in our annals; new ideas, 
new philosophies, new sciences, new statesmanship, new po- 
litical principles, new strategies and tactics, new music, new 
poetry, reforms, discoveries, and inventions burst upon men, 
and in the middle of them all, in 1773, Pope Clement the 
Fourteenth dared to abolish the order of the Jesuits. They 
were busy brains that thought under those powdered wigs, 
and big hearts have beaten under those scarlet waistcoats and 
daintily ruffled shirts ! Washington, Voltaire, Chatham, Ham- 
ilton, are on the rolls of that century; and Humboldt was 
born in the same year with Napoleon, with Cuvier, Wellington, 
and Chateaubriand, while the names of Goethe and Schiller, 
Lessing and Walter Scott, Kant and Wolf, the Homer scholar, 
cluster around the memorable year of 1769 — some born earlier, 
some later — all belonging to his own vivid age. While our 
forefathers were struggling for independence the circumnavi- 
gator Cook swept over the seas to discover isles and archipel- 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 



407 



agoes, as now the astronomer sweeps with his telescope over 
the whole heavens, to bring into his net the yet undiscovered 
stars. The enthusiasm kindled by Cook, and especially trans- 
mitted to Germany by his companion Forster, met Humboldt 
in his early youth; it animated him at Freiberg, the far-famed 
Mining School, and when he entered the years of manhood. 
Let me give a rapid glance of this portion of his life in the 
words of another : z 

" Alexander, as himself confesses, had from early youth a 
burning desire to travel in distant and unknown lands, and 
this desire was encouraged by George Forster, who had been 
the companion of Cook, and the natural historian of his 
voyage around the world. As a first essay, he made a scien- 
tific journey up the Rhine, through Holland, and then pro- 
ceeded to England. To qualify himself for future explorations, 
he studied botany at Hamburg ; geology with Werner, direc- 
tor of the Mining Academy at Freiberg; went to Paris, where 
he formed the acquaintance of Michaux and Bonpland, and 
of the most eminent naturalists and mathematicians of that 
metropolis; learned Arabic; with Gay-Lussac made researches 
into the composition of the atmosphere ; and acquired a prac- 
tical knowledge of the use of all those instruments which 
were required in his physical investigations. Thus instructed, 
he sought for a field in which to develop his acquirements. 
He wished to join the expedition of savans under Napoleon, 
in Egypt; but Nelson, by the result of the battle of Aboukir, 
had cut off all communication. He projected a scientific 
journey through Algiers and Egypt, thence to join a caravan 
to Mecca, and go to East India across the Persian Sea ; but 
in this he was disappointed. He arranged to join Captain 
Baudin in the intended expedition to the southern hemis- 
phere; but the threatened resumption of hostilities induced 
the French Government to delay its departure. So unsettled 
was the state of Europe that it seemed almost impossible for 



1 J. W. Foster, in an article, Alexander von Humboldt, in The Western 
Monthly, July, 1869, published at Chicago. 



4 o8 ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

him to leave the Continent. At Madrid, however, fortune 
proved favorable. He was introduced to court, and explained 
his projects to the king. They received the royal sanction, 
and on the 5th of June, 1799, Humboldt, with Bonpland as a 
companion, found himself on board of a Spanish vessel (which 
had eluded the vigilance of the English cruisers), standing 
out to the open sea, for South America." 

When Humboldt must have been much beyond seventy 
years of age, he was seen willing, like any of the Berlin 
students in the lecture-room of the geographer Ritter, to 
learn geography anew, and almost to his dying day, in the 
ninetieth year of his life, he studied, wrote, and taught. His 
health must have been marvellous. He worked and enjoyed 
his social intercourse literally night and day. It has been 
said, " Modern majesty is work." That majesty sat on his 
brow indeed. Humboldt was a far harder-working man than 
any with hammer in hand, or behind the plough. In the 
year 1844, when he had reached, therefore, the age of seventy- 
five years, he told the speaker at Potsdam that he was en- 
gaged in a work which he intended to call Cosmos ; that he 
was obliged chiefly to write at night, for in the morning he 
studied and arranged materials, or received visitors, and in 
the evening he was expected to be with the king from nine 
o'clock to about eleven. After his return from the king he 
was engaged in writing until one or two, and even three 
o'clock. Would not the Greek philosopher, reticent of gratu- 
lation, have pronounced him fortunate? He was fortunate, 
but, happily, not a child of fortune. He was a man of utmost 
simplicity, and he was great. If greatness consists partly in 
doing and producing much with means which in the hands of 
others would have been insufficient, then Humboldt possessed 
that constituent of greatness ; if greatness means power and 
ingeniousness to concentrate the gifts and talents of many on 
one point, to inspire them with sympathy and enthusiasm for 
the same end, and to make them gladly contribute toward it, 
then he was great ; if it is great to see from earliest manhood 
the main end of one's individual life, and steadily to pursue 



ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT. 409 

it to the very end with the highest gifts of nature, then he 
was great ; if it pertains to greatness to soar high indeed in 
the one selected sphere, but to be trivial or puerile in none, 
but, on the contrary, to retain a vivid sympathy with all that 
is noble, beautiful, true, and just, then he was great; if it is a 
characteristic of greatness to be original, and strike out new 
paths — indeed, even to prophetic anticipations — but to refuse 
the good of no antecedent, then he was great; if greatness 
requires marked individuality, which yet takes up all the main 
threads that give distinctness to the times we live in ; if in- 
ventive and interleaguing imagination, which gathers what is 
scattered, and, grandly simplifying and uniting the details, 
rears a temple, is a concomitant of greatness, his mind and 
soul possessed it. If truly great men are not jealous and 
void of envy, are full of inspiriting ambition, but free from 
a desire to keep competitors down — Humboldt showed no 
envy, nothing that destroys the dignity of greatness. He 
was most amiable and helpful, even to the youngest and those 
who were least connected with him. 

Humboldt was liberal. No one has ever heard from his 
lips any indication from which it might be surmised that he 
shared in that superciliousness with which modern naturalists 
not unfrequently look upon other sciences and branches of 
knowledge. On the contrary, he took the deepest interest in 
human society, and all the branches which treat of men as 
social beings. 

[Several paragraphs are here omitted because they occur in 
the preceding address before the Geographical Society.] 

Of his high culture, but this one fact, that the German 
scholars most fit to judge say that, in his Views of Nature 
(Ansichten der Natur), he made a new imprint on the German 
tongue, and showed his native language in a new phase ; and 
this after Goethe and Lessing, as well as Herder and Schiller, 
had given it their imprint. He perfected German prose, and 
perfecting prose takes masterly skill. He who improves the 
prose of his language is a benefactor to his country. 

Of his simplicity, but this, that although a courtier and a 



4 io ACADEMIC DISCOURSES. 

native nobleman, the prejudices of the numerous German 
noblesse never tainted him even in the least offensive form. 
Unmarried as he was, there were several private houses in 
Berlin in which he was always most welcome for his meals, 
and the friends in these houses were all citizens, not so-called 
noblemen. 

Of his general liberality and justice, only this, that with 
his profound knowledge of races and species he always, 
openly and unconditionally, condemned slavery. 

Of his keen sense of progress, only this, he took the deepest 
interest in the projected ship-canal through the Isthmus of 
Darien, demanding constant information about it from his 
friends in America. 

Of his aesthetic sense and instincts, only this, that in the 
conception as well as the execution of his Cosmos, the element 
of the beautiful is largely manifest, as it was in the Greek 
word itself. 

Of the comprehensiveness of his head and heart, only this, 
that he took, like his brother William, the deepest interest in 
the widest-spread common-school system, and the loftiest uni- 
versity education; that modern penology elicited his atten- 
tion, and the trial by jury arrested his observation and reflection. 

Of his mien — there it is — his brow of high capacity and 
his winning lips. 

Great names are a treasure of nations. Humboldt's name is 
a portion of the treasure of our kind, and on a spot like this, 
with such a monument, let us be thankful not only for the 
kindly fruits and the lovely trees of the earth, but also, and 
more warmly still, for the kindly fruits and the lovely blossoms 
of the mind. 

For the young who hear me, I conclude with Humboldt's 
own words, in the last letter he wrote before setting sail for 
South America : " Man must will the good and the great; the 
rest comes as decreed." 

For all, I conclude with those words of Pericles, with which, 
on an occasion not dissimilar, I began my address : " The 

WHOLE EARTH IS THE MONUMENT OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN." 



ESSAYS. 



411 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON.' 



Napoleon, it may be stated without venture, is one of those 
historical magnitudes which attract the renewed scrutiny, and 
periodically revived attention of successive ages. Does he 
also belong to those who present themselves for centuries in 
different phases, according to the different and characteristic 
elements which may be at work in the wrestling progress of 
the race to which they have belonged ? 

Public men are open to the gaze of all ; and people will 
have their opinions about them. We heard Niebuhr exclaim : 
" How true ! How wise !" when, on one of the high roads of 
Tyrol, we passed a house, over the door of which was painted 
the distich : 

" Wer da bauet an der Strassen, Muss die Leute reden lassen." 

The greater a name is among those that are stamped as 
historical, the surer it is to be discussed and examined from 
various points of view, and to present itself in different lights 
and hues in the sequel of years. Indeed, may it not be said 
that, as it is one of the characteristics of a great soul, that it 
lives within itself the lives of many men ; so it is the variety 
of phases which a name, an epoch, a nation, or an institution 
presents to succeeding generations that constitutes one of the 



x Written in 1854, at Bordentown, New Jersey, in the former home of Joseph 
Bonaparte, and printed (anonymously) in Putnam's Magazine, January, 1855, 
under the title " Was Napoleon a Dictator ?" A part of the Essay was modified 
and reprinted in 1864 under the title " Washington and Napoleon." The 
modifications are inserted in their proper places. — (G.) 

413 



414 



ESS A YS. 



standards of historical greatness? Like great books, new 
eras find something new in them, and they grow on mankind. 
Christ became man ; as such, the greatest man, and his name 
presents itself in endless phases to generation after genera- 
tion. Timour and Attila did vast things for the times, but 
there is but one unchanging aspect in which they can be 
viewed. They were nothing but conquerors. Greece is 
studied with intenser zeal as our race advances, and always 
with the relish of a newly-discovered subject. Even the 
middle of the nineteenth century has produced important and 
elaborate histories of that brilliant star in history. Portugal 
had a brilliant period, too ; but it is like one flash of light, 
and there it ends. No successive ages present it in a new 
aspect. The institutions of the Anglican race are an inex- 
haustible theme of reflection, and would be so for all ages to 
come, even if this day the Americans and English were 
swept from the face of the earth. Russia is a vast empire. 
Describe it once with accuracy and truth, or, when it will 
have crumbled into dust, let its rise and fall be carefully 
chronicled, and all is done that mankind stand in need of, or 
will care for. 

Napoleon was a great man. Whether that whole phe- 
nomenon comprehended within the one name, Napoleon 
Bonaparte, will have in future ages the polyphasial character 
which has just been spoken of, cannot be decided in our 
times, whatever the anticipations of present historians may 
be, according to the different bias of their minds. But the 
period is arriving when his history may be written. We are 
daily receding from his time, and ascending the summit from 
which the historian may calmly look around. It is not the 
contemporaries that can write the history of a man or age. 
They can only accumulate materials. Niebuhr wrote a wiser 
history of Rome than Livy ; Grote, a deeper history of Greece 
than Thucydides or Herodotus. In the mean time, separate 
questions are to be answered ; distinct subjects belonging to 
the great theme are gradually to be treated with more and 
more of that character with which, ultimately, his whole his- 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 415 

tory must be handled. One of these questions is — and it is 
a vital one — was Napoleon a dictator ? Did he consciously 
concentrate immense power, compress freedom of action in 
France, and conquer the European continent, merely to pre- 
pare a nobler and a permanent state of things ? Did he sow 
and plant, or did he merely concentrate power, and, in doing 
so, destroy the germs of freedom ? Did he treat liberty as 
merely in abeyance, while, nevertheless, he was fostering its 
germs, or did he induce a state of things, which, in the same 
degree as he succeeded, extirpated freedom, and which in 
turn must be undone in the same degree in which liberty 
would struggle into existence ? The Roman dictator was no 
annihilator. He received extraordinary, not absolute, power, 
for a limited period, in times of danger and difficulty, to help 
the wheels of the state through a miry pass, and when the 
days of his power were over, he was responsible for his 
stewardship. 

The admirers of Napoleon, those that served him, and those 
who now worship his name, have ever striven to present him 
in this light. They felt instinctively that this was the only 
way of reconciling his acts with the great aim of our times. 
We are well aware that there are two other classes of Napo- 
leonists. There are those who boldly assert that Napoleon 
actually ruled France in a liberal spirit, and that freedom 
really was enjoyed under him ; and there are those who, with 
still greater boldness, maintain that France did not struggle 
for liberty in her first revolution, nor that she yearns for it 
now ; that all she ever wanted is equality. This opinion was 
proclaimed at the time when the present emperor of the 
French was forging a new crown for himself, and new gyves 
for bleeding France. We have nothing to do with this spe- 
cies of Napoleonists. They are void of the shame of history, 
or else, not knowing it and its sacred character, they merely 
write to say something new and startling. " We leave them 
and pass on." 

The elder brother of Napoleon was not of their opinion. 
In many of his letters, written from his exile in the United 



4 i6 ESSAYS. 

States, he expresses the idea that Napoleon was a dictator — 
a real lover of liberty, forced by foreign enemies to assume 
the sole power of the state ; a power developed by the wars 
into which he was driven to such an extent that in a measure 
it overpowered himself. Joseph Bonaparte has repeatedly 
expressed this idea, especially in an elaborate letter to Count 
Thibaudeau, who had stated in his history that Napoleon had 
caused France to retrograde in the path of liberty. But we 
must confess that the idea of a dictatorship in Napoleon 
seems not to have been very clear in the mind of that able, 
benevolent, and otherwise clear-headed and liberal brother of 
the emperor; 1 for, in the same letter to Count Thibaudeau, 
he shows that the dire idea of the " Caesars," successfully re- 
vived with its blighting associations in our own times, was 
also floating in the mind of Joseph. He says : " He (the em- 
peror) has succumbed in the struggle. It is impossible to say 
what he would have done after Actium. I say what I know. 
Impartial men, who have seen nothing but the internal facts, 
will say that probably Napoleon would have been as superior 
to Augustus as he had been to Octavius; that a man of such 
a genius would not have desired anything but what was meet 
for the French people ; and that, if he were living now, he 
would make France as happy by her institutions as the fortu- 
nate country which I inhabit — a country which proves that 
liberal institutions make nations happy and wise." 2 Yet this 
very Napoleon used to repeat : Everything for the people, 
nothing by the people. 

That same letter to Count Thibaudeau contains the re- 



1 General Lamarque, in a letter to Joseph, in which he enumerates all the 
good the latter had done to Naples, has this observation : " Unable to establish 
political liberty, you endeavored to let your subjects enjoy all the benefits of a 
municipal government (a government of incorporated cities and the self-manage- 
ment of communes), which you considered as the foundation of all institutions." 
To have seen and done this is, for a king and Frenchman of that time, and for 
a brother of Napoleon, more reputable than the gain of a victory. Every states- 
man will admit that this redounds to the highest honor of Joseph's mind and 
character. 

8 The letter is dated Point Breeze, 19th May, 1829. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 417 

markable sentence : " Napoleon isolated himself much in 
France ; people ended with no longer understanding what he 
was after." 

The studious reader will find this letter on page 320 of the 
tenth volume of the Memoirs and Correspondence, political 
as well as military, of King Joseph. 

Joseph expresses similar views in a letter to Francis Lieber, 
which follows in the mentioned volume, immediately after 
that to Count Thibaudeau. Indeed, he enclosed a copy of 
the latter in that to the former. 

We consider these two letters of great interest, if they are 
not important in point of historical facts. We shall give the 
translation of the one to Mr. Lieber in this paper, feeling 
assured that its perusal will prove the propriety of inserting 
it. (See page 436.) 

When Lieber had resolved to write the Encyclopaedia 
Americana, he wished to turn the presence of Napoleon's 
brother in this country to good account with reference to 
some disputed facts in the great period which had just ended, 
and regarding which Joseph Bonaparte had it in his power to 
give him light. He wrote, therefore, at once to Count Survil- 
liers, asking whether he would allow him occasionally to apply 
to him for information concerning important facts in his own or 
his brother's life. The answer was friendly and liberal, and 
produced a correspondence, of which a number of letters are 
now in the hands of Lieber. Possibly they may be published. 
It seems that Joseph retained copies of all his letters ; at any 
rate, a copy of the letter which has been mentioned must have 
been among the papers of the man who, twice king, lived 
among us an esteemed and beloved citizen, full of unpretend- 
ing and genuine kindness. 1 



1 The writer well remembers with what simplicity Joseph would relate events 
of his life at the dinner table, often prefacing them with the words : " When I 

was King of Naples," or " Spain." One day Mr. , an old convention-man, 

who had left France, where he had been well acquainted with the Bonapartes, 
when Napoleon made himself consul for life, and had lived ever since in South 
America, dined at Point Breeze. He called Joseph, Thou, in the old republican 
Vol. I. — 27 



4 i 8 ESSAYS. 

The emperor himself was desirous of having his reign con- 
sidered a dictatorship. This was at least the case in his exile, 
where, as it is well known and was natural, he occupied him- 
self with his own name, as it would be judged by posterity .- 
On that distant rock where he died in exile he existed, though 
still in this life, yet removed from the living generation over 
which he had ruled ; no man, like him, has stepped, still living, 
into the past. Everything was extraordinary in this man — 
his end no less than his life. From the island in the southern 
hemisphere he could look upon his career, which filled so large 
a portion of the northern, as a thing of history, completely 
closed; and of no historic magnate have we records, official 
and private, so full as of him. 

Napoleon alluded, on several occasions, to Washington, and 
on one of these he observed that some people had said that he 
ought to have made himself a French Washington. "All that 
I was allowed to be," he said, " was a crowned Washington. 
For me to imitate Washington would have been a niaiserie." 
He intended undoubtedly to convey the idea that the circum- 
stances in which he was placed, and France, as he found her, 
did not allow him to become a second Washington. This is 
obvious, but it is equally true that under no circumstances 
whatever would Napoleon have been a man like Washington 
— never could he have parted with power. 

There are no two men in the whole compass of history 
more unlike than these two. There is, indeed, a double star 
in the firmament of history, the one component star of which 
is Washington, but his fellow-star is not Napoleon ; it is 



style; he spoke freely of Napoleon, and the courtesy of Joseph, sometimes, as 
it seemed to us, fairly tried, appeared most charming. When, that evening, we 
bade Joseph good-night, he said : " Un moment," took the candle, and showed 
us to our bedroom. We have often said, and mean it literally, that the two old 
men, personally most courteous and putting a visitor most at ease, that we have 
ever known, were Joseph Bonaparte and General Jackson. It used to be a great 
enjoyment at Point Breeze to walk up and down the room with Joseph Bonaparte, 
and to hear from him those delightful anecdotes, which are, to the philosophic 
historian or statesman, like little delicate touches in a historic picture, or the 
nicely-modulated accents of a great speaker on a great question. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 



419 



William of Nassau, the founder of the Netherlands Republic, 
whom his countrymen did not attempt to call the Great, but 
who is named to this day Father William. Bonaparte, crowned 
or uncrowned, never was, and never could have been, a Wash- 
ington. They were differently fashioned. The minds and 
souls of Washington and Napoleon differed no less than their 
bodies. The one was wholly Anglican or Teutonic, the other 
essentially of the modern Southern European type — not Latin, 
as the favorite phrase now goes. There was nothing Roman 
in Napoleon. The one was great and noble as a calm and 
persevering man of duty; the other impetuous, flashing, full of 
brilliant genius. Washington has ever appeared to us as the 
greatest historic model of sound common sense and sterling 
judgment, coupled with immaculate patriotism, patient, just, 
and persevering, even to tenacity. Washington was not bril- 
liant, but sound to the inmost recess of his large heart, and 
endowed with the Fabian genius of unyielding firmness under 
circumstances which would have sickened most men. Wash- 
ington would forget his own self and had the divine gift of 
waiting. Napoleon, on the other hand, is probably the most 
brilliant character of modern times. Glory was his very idol. 
When his first laurels encircled his brow, and Europe stood 
amazed at his Italian victories, his saying, often repeated in 
despatches and addresses to his soldiers, was : " We shall do 
greater things yet." Grandes choses — things of great renown 
for all ages formed the constellation by which he shaped his 
course. 

Washington was throughout his life a self-limiting man ; 
Napoleon was ever a self-stimulating man. The fever of 
grandeur — grandeur of name, grandeur of deeds — consumed 
him. Washington was modest; Napoleon came to ruin by 
untamable pride. Washington was obedient to the law — a 
law-abiding man if ever there was one. Napoleon constantly 
broke down the law when it appeared necessary to him, and 
it appeared thus often. Washington aided in creating a new 
empire ; Napoleon aimed at creating a " new system" — a 
" new state of things." Washington helped politically to 



420 ESSA VS. 

form a new nation, and gladly accepted the aid of his com- 
peers; Napoleon stepped in when France had long been politi- 
cally nationalized, and when a fearful internal convulsion had 
intensified pre-existing centralization. Washington sought 
eagerly the advice of his friends and companions — -such as 
Hamilton and Madison. Napoleon looked upon himself as 
Destiny. Louis XIV. had said : " L'etat c'est moi." We 
almost hear Napoleon say: "L'histoire c'est moi." Napoleon 
compared his career and his relation to his followers — the 
marshals and others — with those of Christ and Mahomet. 1 
He ended, indeed, with repeating the se]f-deification of Alex- 
ander as closely as it could be done in the nineteenth 
century. 

Washington arose out of a struggle for independence — a 
severance of colonies from a distant mother-country. Napo- 
leon arose out of a fearful internal revolution. The former 
belonged to a revolution which consisted chiefly in the dis- 
avowal of allegiance to the crown of England, and left intact 
all the elementary institutions of political existence inherited 
from the mother-country; the latter succeeded to a revolu- 
tion which rooted up the whole preceding polity except 
centralism. 

Washington is daily growing in the affection of history, 
and there is a remarkable uniformity of opinion regarding his 
character at home and abroad ; there is the greatest differ- 
ence of opinion regarding Napoleon's character, and, how- 
ever many may admire him, no one can be said to love 
his memory, except some survivors who have received acts 
of personal kindness at his hands. No one loves power 
merely because it is power. Could we even love God were 
He only almighty? 

Yet Washington was not personally popular ; his power 
consisted in the universal conviction that he could be con- 
fided in ; an almost unlimited trust in his integrity and wisdom, 



1 For this statement we have two proofs : one in the Memoirs of the Duke of 
Ragusa, and the other in the Memorial de St. Helene, which admits of no ex- 
tenuating interpretation. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 



421 



by soldier and by citizen, was his strength ; but no endear- 
ing name was bestowed on him by his soldiers, or if it ever 
was done it did not adhere, and has not become historical. 
Napoleon was worshipped by his soldiers, and received the 
soldierly nickname of the Little Corporal, as Old Fritz, Mar- 
shal Forward, and Old Hickory were bestowed on Frederick 
the Great, on Prince Blucher, and on General Jackson, and 
adhered to them, so that the names passed over into history 
and into the songs of the Berangers and the Arndts. Yet 
again, while Washington was universally trusted, even after 
a party had arisen which embittered the later years of his 
second presidential term, Joseph writes of his brother Napo- 
leon, when endeavoring to make out that the emperor was, 
with all his absolutism, but a dictator arrogating all power in 
order to establish peace abroad and quiet at home : " Napoleon 
isolated himself much in France, and the people ended with 
no longer understanding what he was after." 

Washington seems to us to have been free from jealousy 
in a degree very rare in public men, and almost unknown in 
distinguished captains. Jealousy was active in Napoleon's 
mind, and signally shown on several occasions. Washington 
was eminently truthful, a point in which Wellington resem- 
bled him. Napoleon readily discarded truth when it served 
his purpose, and laid it down even as a rule that his generals 
should 'misstate facts on occasions which he pointed out. 
Washington declined his pay as commander-in-chief, and 
allowed Congress only to refund his actual expenses in 
the field, for which purpose he kept conscientiously minute 
accounts. Napoleon always drew largely on the public treas- 
ury. Washington, to the end of his life, wrote a remarkably 
free, bold, and legible hand ; Napoleon's handwriting became 
more illegible with every rising step, until some of his letters 
or directions embarrassed his ministers to such a degree that, 
after consultations, they had to recur again to the emperor, 
who was by no means put into an amiable mood on such 
occasions. Indeed, Washington's handwriting shows the 
calmness of the writer and a proper regard for his fellow- 



422 



ESS A VS. 



men. Napoleon's later writing, although he wrote originally 
a legible hand, betrayed impetuous haste and an utter disre- 
gard of the intended reader. 

Washington never persecuted ; he imprisoned no personal 
opponent, banished no personal enemy, and when he died his 
hands, like those of Pericles, were unstained. Napoleon ban- 
ished, imprisoned, and persecuted, and developed a system of 
police which must be called stupendous on account of its vast- 
ness, power, and penetrating keenness — a system pressing to 
this day on France like an Alp, and which makes all that 
Aristotle wrote on the police of usurpers appear as a feeble 
beginning of that essential branch of despotism. The Dio- 
nysian " sycophant" is a poor bungler compared to an agent 
of the French secret police, and this gigantic police system, 
with the whole gendarmerie and all the thousand ramifications 
in the different spheres of society, with a counter secret police, 
was developed with its stifling comprehensiveness under Na- 
poleon, and is, unfortunately, more truly his own than the 
Code which bears his name. 

Washington was strictly constitutional, and institutiojial, in 
his character ; he never dreamed of concentration of power, 
however active and ardent he was in changing the inadequate 
congress under the Articles of Confederation into a positive 
national government, under a national constitution, and how- 
ever exalted opinion he had of a cherished nationality. He 
called state sovereignty a monster, but he had no inclination 
whatever towards centralism — representation by one house, 
or an extinction of self-government in any sphere, high or 
low. If Satan ever showed to him the glory and power of 
an earthly kingdom, it remained buried in his noble breast, 
and no act, no word of his, has betrayed even so much as a 
struggle to beat down the tempter. On the contrary, when 
malcontent officers intimated to him that he might rely on 
their support should he resolve to disperse congress and 
make himself king, he promptly knew how to blend the 
sharpest rebuke with a gentlemanly forbearance towards his 
misguided and, perhaps, sorely-tried comrades. Napoleon, 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 



423 



on the other hand, expresses his surprise that nothing ever 
indicated a desire in Wellington to carve out a sovereignty 
for himself in the Peninsula. How astonished would he have 
been at our Scott's refusal of a Mexican chief magistracy, 
and a feudal establishment of his army in the country. 1 Na- 
poleon had no institutional instinct, no sympathy for self-gov- 
ernment, no conception even of civil liberty. The highest idea 
of liberty he seems ever to have conceived of is an appeal to 
universal suffrage for the grant of unlimited power. Absolut- 
ism thus granted, the executive thus established, was in his 
mind the real representative of the people. He hated " par- 
liamentarism"; representative government was odious to him, 
and he called it aristocratic. True democracy was, according 
to him, to be found in absolutism based on an act of universal 
suffrage. This fundamental idea of Napoleon — now again 
paraded before the world — is given at length and with great 
precision and clearness by himself in a somewhat long expo- 
sition, forming one of his letters to the minister of foreign 
affairs, in the Correspondence of Napoleon I. 2 Instead of 
thinking how he might become one of the great institutors 
gratefully recorded by history, how he might sow the seeds 
of self-ruling institutions, which would survive him because 
the principle of self-government was inherent in them, he 
meditates how he can strike out new paths of brilliancy to 
make him and his people more glorious abroad, and how he 
can establish a polished despotism at home. His model of a 
policy was enlightened absorbing centralism — "all for the 
people, nothing by the people'' (his early motto), with a 
strictly systematic administrative branch — claimed even now 
by his successor, in throne speeches, as one of his uncle's 
most legitimate titles to undying glory. Napoleon seems to 
have been the representative and finisher of a period distin- 
guished by aggressive criticism and demolition of past forms, 
rather than the beginner of an era of new institutions and 
fresh ideas. 



1 See for an account of this interesting incident Lieber's Civil Liberty. 
3 On page 313, vol. iii. 



424 ESSA YS - 

Washington was a citizen, a statesman, a patriot, and also 
a soldier ; Napoleon was a soldier above all other things, and 
gloried in being un homme d'epee. To be the greatest captain 
in history was the object of his greatest ambition. He com- 
pares himself to Caesar, to Alexander. We think of citizens 
like Thrasybulus, Doria, or William of Nassau when we seek 
for examples similar to Washington. 

We Americans acknowledge that Washington plainly served 
his country, to which he bowed as the great thing above him 
and all others. The greatest admirers of Napoleon say that 
" soldiers, money, peoples, were in his hands but means to 
establish un systhne grandiose." 1 Washington never was a 
dictator, and never aimed at a dictatorship. Napoleon occa- 
sionally claimed the title to explain or excuse his despotism 
or stringent centralism. Washington never compared him- 
self to any one. Napoleon compares himself occasionally to 
him. Washington's policy was strictly domestic, and in leav- 
ing public life he urges the completest possible abstaining 
from foreign policy as one of the most important points of 
American statesmanship. Napoleon's policy became from 
year to year more foreign, until it ended almost exclusively 
in conquest and the revival of the obsolete idea of a univer- 
sal monarchy, or at least of the absolute preponderance of 
France in Europe. The idea of a commonwealth of nations, 
linked together by the great law of nations — one of the most 
comprehensive ideas of modern civilization, and which is the 
application of the idea of self-government to the intercourse 
of nations — was spurned by him, and he tells us that had not 
the Russian disaster befallen him, he would have carried a 
long-cherished plan of his into execution. According to this 
plan, the princes of all the dynasties under the influence of 
France should have been educated at Paris, under his eyes, 
and returned to their homes as what all the world probably 
would have called fit prefects of France, but what he called 



1 Words of the editors of Memoirs and Correspondence of Napoleon I., quoted 
here because they express what thousands say, and what pervades the whole ten 
volumes of the imperial correspondence. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 425 

aids in his great system. Peace, according to him, was to be 
'maintained in Europe only by the decided predominance of one 
power, and this power of course must be France, because far 
the most enlightened of all. 

Washington and Napoleon were both men of strong will, 
as all great men must be, but Washington had also a correct 
heart, without which a strong will and fiery energy become 
only multipliers and co-efficients of evil. If we designate by 
the word " character" a combination of will and principle, Wash- 
ington was a man of a great character. Napoleon may have 
had a stronger will than Washington. He certainly had a 
bolder will, while Washington had greater tenacity ; but had 
Napoleon also goodness of heart and purity of purpose ? A 
strong will without a good heart is even worse than keen logic 
without sound judgment. 

Washington loved his country as an upright patriot, but we 
recollect no case in which his patriotism dimmed his consci- 
entiousness. Napoleon placed, or pretended to place, France 
above all else. He did not think like Montesquieu, who 
said : " If I knew something useful to my country but injuri- 
ous to Europe and to mankind, I should consider it a crime." 

Washington was one of the beginners of the revolution ; 
Napoleon steps in when the revolution of his country had 
already developed immense national forces. We believe 
Washington never changed his political convictions ; Napo- 
leon commenced his career strongly tinctured with Jacobinism, 
and ended it as the embodiment of autocracy. He wrote, 
as a young officer, a very hot democratic paper, the copies of 
which were carefully suppressed at a later period. 1 If Wash- 
ington's public acts were reduced to those of private life, that 
is to say, if the same motives were applied to the latter sphere, 
he would appear as an honorable, loyal, useful, and excellent 



1 A letter, addressed on September 6, 1795, by Napoleon to Joseph, in which 
he speaks of their brother Louis, has this characteristic and attractive passage : 

" C'est un bon sujet; mais aussi c'est de ma facon : chaleur, esprit, santS, 
talent, commerce exact, bonte, il reunit tout." When Louis was King of Hol- 
land Napoleon spoke differently of him. 



426 ESSA VS. 

neighbor and citizen. Napoleon would appear as an aggres- 
sive, restless, and difficult neighbor. Washington aimed at 
no elevation of his family, and dies a justice of the peace. 
Napoleon writes to Joseph : " I want a family of kings (il me 
fant une famille de wis)!' Washington divests himself of the 
chief magistracy voluntarily and gracefully, leaving to his 
people a document which after-ages cherish. like a political 
gospel. Napoleon, in his last days, is occupied with the idea 
of family aggrandizement and with the means by which his 
house may be prevented from mingling again with common 
men. He often spoke of it during his closing illness, and 
directs General Bertrand to advise, in his name, the members 
of his family to settle chiefly in Rome, where their children 
ought to be married to such princely families as the Colonnas, 
and where some Bonaparte would not fail to become Pope. 
Jerome and Caroline ought to reside in Switzerland, where, 
chiefly in Berne, they must establish themselves in the Swiss 
"oligarchy" (he uses this term), and where a landammanship 
would be certain to fall to the Bonapartes; and the children 
of Joseph should remain in America — marry into the great 
families of the Washingtons and Jeffersons, and so a Bona- 
parte would soon become president of the United States. 1 

May we continue after this passage ? We wish, however, be- 
fore closing this paper, to direct attention to a few points more. 

Washington is one of the fairest instances of the gentleman, 
in the military as well as in the political, and in the interna- 
tional sphere. The character of the gentleman was at no pe- 
riod before the eyes of Napoleon as a distinct type of modern 
humanity. Washington was appointed to the chief command 
by civilians, who had learned to honor his character as a 
fellow-member in the continental congress ; Napoleon made 
each step towards the consulate and throne by the aid of the 

1 It cannot be said that this extraordinary advice was owing to a failing mind. 
On the contrary, Bertrand, Montholon, and the other companions of Napoleon 
at St. Helena, state that his mind remained remarkably clear to the last day, and 
Bertrand says that the emperor spoke repeatedly of these desired family settle- 
ments. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON 



427 



army and his military glory. Washington was great in not 
destroying, and brought back nothing that the people had 
abolished ; Napoleon destroyed much that had been sown by 
the revolution, and re-established much that had been care- 
fully destroyed. He boasted that he had maintained equality, 
yet he re-established nobility; he gloried in having made 
stable all the good which the revolution had tried to intro- 
duce, yet he tried to abolish again the trial by jury. 1 When 
Americans speak of Washington, they call him always a great 
and good man. Great and good have grown, regarding him, 
into one word, similar, in psychologic grammar, to the Kalo- 
kagathon of the Greeks, and his name as a good man has 
spread so far that we meet with it to this day in the belief of 
our Indians that he is the only white man who ever went or 
ever will go to heaven. 2 Transcendent genius is nearly all 
the French ascribe to Napoleon. Washington was all that 
the emergency of his country called for. Thus he was and 
remains a blessing to his country. Was Napoleon all that 
France required, and was he no more ? Did the desires of 
his genius and personal greatness not present themselves to 
him as those of France? Even Louis Napoleon has acknowl- 
edged on his throne that it must be owned his uncle loved 
war too much. 

Both Washington and Napoleon have been men of high 
action, and some points of similarity between them must 
necessarily exist ; but to find them is the work of ingenious 
research rather than of inquiring candor. 

In writing this comparison of the two heroes, we have not 
felt guilty of undue boldness. To judge of a Napoleon and a 
Washington does not require a mind equal to either. The 



1 See Memoirs of Count Miot. 

2 Mr. Schoolcraft, on page 230 of Notes on the Iroquois, Senate Document 24, 
1846, states that this belief of the red men exists to this day — not very compli- 
mentary to us, but unfortunately only an exaggeration of that for which there is 
good ground. The ancient v<z victis must be changed in the white man's mod- 
ern history into " Woe to a different color." The white man has shown little 
sympathy with the other races, and sympathy is the first basis of all idea of 
justice. 



428 ESSA VS. 

faculty of appreciating and enjoying is happily far greater and 
more common than that of producing and inventing. Goethe 
says : " It does not require an architect to live in a house." 
Were it otherwise, did it require a mind like Shakspeare's 
to appreciate his works, or a Mozart to enjoy a Mozart, or a 
Paul to be taught by a Paul, men would not stand in need of 
one another, and, unable to form a society, could have devel- 
oped no genius or talent among them, could have no history, 
and our species could not have advanced. 

If Napoleon really was a dictator, forced by France, or by 
foreign combinations to assume that character — if the estab- 
lishment of liberty was a merely suspended work with him, 
we would find the element of freedom in his character and 
psychological configuration at some time or other in his life. 
But the more closely we examine the character of that gigantic 
man, the more we become convinced that, as we expressed 
it before, he was eminently destitute of a civic character. 
There was no ingredient of freedom in the brass of that 
colossus. He was bred a soldier; his youth was imbued with 
Rousseauism, as it has been called ; his early manhood, when 
his ideas became, to use one of his own favorite expressions, 
bien arrete, and " his soul ripened," fell in a period at which 
popular absolutism was revelling in anarchy ; all his instincts 
were towards the grand, the effective in history, without any 
reference to the solemn meaning of the individual, without 
which liberty cannot be imagined. We find, secondly, that 
in no case did he lay the foundation of institutions in which 
liberty may be said to have lain undeveloped, as the whole 
organism of the future independent individual is foreshadowed 
in the foetus, dependent though it be, for the time, upon the 
mother. We find that wherever he changed laws or insti- 
tutions, established by the revolution, he curtailed or ex- 
tinguished liberty in them, substituting everywhere an un- 
compromising centralism. When Napoleon was liberal, we 
believe it will be generally found that it amounts rather to 
this — that he was not small, not mean. He was too great a 
man to be puny in any sphere ; but we do not know that he 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 429 

ever acknowledged freedom of action as a substantive thing, 
and independent of himself. Lastly, if Napoleon really aimed 
at ultimate liberty, we must necessarily find some indication 
that his measures were purely provisional in his abundant 
correspondence with his brother Joseph, as given in the work 
repeatedly cited. 

We certainly do not agree with the dictum, that a man 
necessarily shows his character in the truest light in his let- 
ters. Many a genial man writes arid letters ; many a morose 
husband writes affectionately to his wife; many a liberal 
man writes as if he were penurious ; but the many letters 
of Napoleon to his brother are written for the very pur- 
pose of imparting his system to the brother he had just 
made a king, of communicating his ideas of statesmanship 
to him, and of informing him of the great ends of what 
we will call Napoleonism. We think that these letters are 
invaluable as to a clearer understanding of Napoleon. The 
French editors justly consider them so; only, they and we 
differ regarding the opinions and ends of Napoleon, disclosed 
in this precious correspondence — a collection, the like of 
which is not to be found in all history. No emperor like him 
ever wrote letters under such circumstances to a cherished, 
though frequently abused brother of his. The historian 
cannot be sufficiently thankful that they have been preserved. 

What, then, was it that floated as the great ideal over the 
depth of his soul ? What was the fundamental idea of which 
" the honor of my crown," " the glory of France," " the grand 
nation," " the grand empire," " la grande armee," and all simi- 
lar terms and things were but emanations ? What was the 
"grand systeme que la divine Providence nous a destine a 
fonder" as he calls it in the decree of the 30th of March, 1806, 
by which he recognizes his brother Joseph as King of Naples ? 

Throughout his proclamations, laws, letters, and whole 
administration we find a clear and determined hostility to the 
ancient system of feudal privileges, and of administrative cor- 
ruption and mismanagement. We find a pretty clear idea of 
equality of all citizens before the law, and of their equal legal 



43° 



ESSAYS. 



capacity to be called to the different public employments. 
Joseph generally adds the destruction of the influence of 
priests, but Napoleon took good care not to proclaim it, as 
indeed he often vaunts that he was the restorer of throne and 
altar. 

These ideas Napoleon had received from the revolution, 
and gradually he came to believe that the destruction of 
feudalism and the establishment of legal equality had been 
the sole object of " noire belle revolution" as he called it on 
one occasion. The identical error has been expressed by 
Louis Napoleon, who, shortly before he ascended the throne, 
declared that there was not a single day during which he did 
not study the works of his uncle, and endeavored to mould 
all his ideas and measures in conformity with that great 
model. On another occasion, when he ushered in his new 
constitution, the imitative emperor spoke of the great " genie '," 
which, as by inspiration, had brought the true and only 
national system for France, treating at the same time, in 
terms of derogation and ridicule, all those who were of a dif- 
ferent opinion, thus forestalling every idea of self-develop- 
ment from below upward. We do not believe in political 
Mahometanism. 

Napoleon's hostility to " Gothic institutions" extended to 
all institutions, if we understand by them legal establish- 
ments, with an independent organism of life and progress 
within themselves. He became the very apostle of absorbing 
centralism, the declared and uncompromising enemy of self- 
government in all its details, to self-development — in one 
word, to institutional, that is, to real liberty. We believe we 
are strictly correct in this opinion, and if we are, it is obvious 
that Napoleon was anything but a dictator. He was an ab- 
solute ruler — very brilliant, very great, and, for that reason, 
only the more absolute and dangerous, and he established 
and wished to establish absolutism, with unprivileged equality, 
in some degree, beneath it. " Everything for the people, no- 
thing by it." Napoleon unfortunately represented, intensely 
and absolutely, the vanity of the French, which maintained 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 43 r 

that an entire new era must needs be ushered in through the 
French, forgetting to do the needful round-about, and that no 
introducer of a new era has ever said so of himself. Self- 
praise is ruinous in the individual ; in history it is a proof of 
inefficiency regarding the object of self-praise. 

It is unnecessary to show here, however instructive to the 
political philosopher it would be, how the very system pur- 
sued by Napoleon insensibly led him into many of the abuses 
of the decried feudalism, against which he set out. The mili- 
tary superiority, his re-establishment of fiefs, and of a nobility, 
chiefly founded on military merit, show this among many 
other things. Nor did his hostility to corruption remain 
more consistent. He hated the voleurs, the peculators ; but 
he allowed his generals to extort money in foreign parts, and 
he repeats, time after time, to Joseph, that he should enrich 
the generals, and see before all to the greatest possible well- 
being of the army, for both which purposes he must f rapper 
le pays with a heavy contribution, and raise the taxes of Na- 
ples from fifty millions to at least a hundred millions. This 
is repeated again and again, for Joseph was slow in oppress- 
ing. 1 

We do not believe that a candid and reflecting man can read 
the volumes of Napoleon's correspondence without coming to 
the conclusion, that with whatever ideas and intentions that 
extraordinary man may have set out, he ended as a worship- 
per of power, raising, as millions do in their different spheres, 
the means into the end — the great and ever-repeated fallacy of 
men and nations. The fundamental ideas that the people are 



1 The imperial notions of political economy, which, as it is well known, were 
very uncouth, present themselves in this correspondence in a ludicrous light. 
Joseph constantly replied to Napoleon's demands of higher taxes and heavy con- 
tributions, that, so long as Sicily was not conquered, and peace established, all 
commerce was at an end, and the important products of the country, wine, oil, 
silk, and coarse cloth, would find no issue. Whereupon Napoleon answers that 
Joseph's reply amounted to nothing, for if the English blockade put a stop to all 
exports, it also prevented specie (I'enunieraire) from leaving the country ; what 
reason, then, was there that the government could not get at this wealth ? And 
he was in the habit of ridiculing political economists ! 



432 



JESS A VS. 



the substantiative, and governments, systems, armies, nothing 
but means, wholly vanish from his mind. Force, power, glory, 
French glory, centred in him, came to be his idols ; and sol- 
diers, money, people, system, were mere means to serve them. 

We do not recollect in all these volumes one expression 
about the melioration of the people. If there be, it has es- 
caped us. The constant advice, iterated to the satiety of the 
reader, is : acquire force, so that the mediants fear, and the 
loyal esteem you. " Strength is what makes the people es- 
teem governments, and love with nations only means esteem." 
These are his words. 

At this stage it may well be asked, Was Napoleon a great 
statesman ? Every one knows that he was a gifted politician ; 
but was he a great statesman, taking this comprehensive term 
in the highest meaning which it has acquired? 

Great statesmanship, in the advanced state of our race, 
consists, in our opinion, of three main elements — of being 
what Schlegel said the true historian must be, namely, " the 
prophet of the past ;" secondly, of using the given means for 
the highest purposes ; of evoking new means, and of effect- 
ing great things with small means ; lastly, of so shaping all 
measures and organizing all institutions that by their inherent 
character they will lead to a higher future, which, in the politi- 
cal sphere of all nations belonging to the European family, is 
liberty, or a higher and higher degree of freedom. Every 
political measure, no matter how brilliant, that does not aim 
at this ultimate end, is but meteoric, passing, futile. The po- 
litical destiny of all Europides is Freedom. It cannot be too 
often repeated; and, as we believe that it is the destiny of this 
peculiar race to cover the earth, so we believe that the gospel 
and liberty are destined to spread over the globe, or, which 
amounts to the same, as Christianity and liberty are destined 
to be preached and worshipped one of these days, over the 
whole face of the earth, we believe that the Europides will 
cover all lands. 

Now, Napoleon was totally deficient in that element of high 
statesmanship of the white race, which has been mentioned as 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 433 

the third. He quieted France, he developed many resources, 
he established order in many cases, he concentrated, he stimu- 
lated, he ruled many minds, and attached them to himself, as 
Mahomet did, in a wonderful degree. Napoleon knew how 
to give the electric shock to large masses — a sure attribute 
of greatness. He was brilliant beyond any man of his and 
many other ages ; but, with all this, he unfitted France for 
political self-evolvement, for a real internal productive life, 
for freedom, and, in exactly the same degree as he suc- 
ceeded, so he made it necessary for her to retrace her steps, 
and to undo what he had done, would she attain to liberty. 
As a matter of course, the same is proportionally true of the 
present emperor, whose avowed object it is, as we have seen, 
to Napoleonize France once more. Napoleon's government 
was not, and never was intended to be, a mere bridge to a 
better state of things. If it had been, we must consider him 
a man much inferior to what we have been accustomed to 
consider him ; for in that case he has chosen means contrary 
to his ends. 

Was Napoleon a great statesman with reference to that char- 
acteristic which we have given as the first ? Did he find the 
"blue thread" of French history? Our preceding remarks 
show that we do not believe he did. 

And now as a last question connected with our theme, we 
may ask, Was, then, Napoleon not the greatest man of all his- 
tory ? Was he not, at least, the greatest man of modern times, 
or of the last five centuries ? Not only many French, but 
even many others, consider him the greatest man of all ages. 
We believe that they are blinded by the magnifying power of 
historical nearness, or else they take the word greatness in a 
different sense from what we do. 

What constitutes a great man? 

Greatness implies elevation of soul and nobleness of mind, 
above common influences ; but so soon as we apply the word 
great to individual characters — to the artist, the author, the 
captain, the statesman, or the religionist, we always mean con- 
ception and production on a large scale and of a high order, 
Vol. I.— 28 



434 ESSA YS - 

combined with masterly execution — we mean action, not 
merely vast, but high, wide, and of permanent effect. Eros- 
tratus was no great man, though his name is mentioned to this 
day. 

He is a great man that produces with means insignificant in 
the hands of others comprehensive effects ; that discovers a 
continent in a crazy craft. He is greater that becomes the 
representative of his age and utters forth clearly and boldly 
the unspoken and discomforting yearnings of his own times 
— who delivers his age of new ideas, and aids them to struggle 
into institutional existence and permanency ; he is the greatest 
who adds to this the perfection of wholly new ideas, and in- 
stils them into his age, and who organizes for the advent of 
a new future. The greater a man is the more he impresses, 
with his stamp, not only the people of his own period, but 
through it all future times. The deeper you study history 
the surer you find the truly great man and his era like threads 
interwoven in the tissue of the whole successive history of 
their race or nation. There is yet Miltiades in the atmos- 
phere we breathe in this country, and there is Alfred in our 
daily doings. 

With reference to this subject, and speaking exclusively as 
historians, we call Christ the greatest man. His means were 
the smallest, his conceptions the greatest, his imprints the 
deepest, his effects the vastest, the changes he produced the 
most searching and essential. The merest deist, the total dis- 
believer in Christ's gospel, must acknowledge it as a histori- 
cal fact, provided he be a candid and a studious historian. 

If we apply these tests, it does not appear why Alexander 
was not at least as great as Napoleon, in conception as well 
as in doing comprehensive things with small means. As a 
captain, was Hannibal not as great? What, indeed, makes 
Mahomet less great than .him ? As a ruler over a new em- 
pire Charlemagne was greater. He was greater, too, as a 
seminator and preparer for new times. Aristotle, Pope Gregory 
the Seventh — that ecclesiastic Caesar — Luther and Shak- 
speare were greater men in conceiving, imprinting, and plant- 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON. 435 

ing. In taking either of them out of the history of our race, 
it would be far more changed than by striking out the name 
of Napoleon. They have tinctured all history; they have 
added elements which work and expand. Napoleon has not. 
Even if the renewed empire were to last, which assuredly it 
will not, what advancing ideas does it add to the cultural 
treasures of our race ? what institutions ? Absolutism is 
barren. It produces great battles and great palaces. The 
whole system of what is called Anglican liberty is actually 
expanding and spreading without any ingredient of Napo- 
leonism. Where are the vaunted id'ees Napoleoniennes f The 
Frenchman may connect some idea of great enterprises with 
this term — an artificial harbor at Cherbourg, a road over the 
Simplon — -noble undertakings, but not as great as our ideas 
of a ship-canal across the Isthmus or a railway to California ; 
still they are worthy enterprises, but where does the impartial 
historian find something he can call une idee Napoleonienne % 
and put the mark on it so that it can be recognized by all? 
We fear it will be found that everything truly deserving the 
name of an idee Napol'eonienne, relates to stringent centralism, 
uniting, with the utmost precision, the administrative and 
executive power of a vast country in the hands of one bril- 
liant man — one of the weakest governments, as history has 
shown ; and well may Count Thibaudeau say to Joseph, that, 
certain it is, Napoleon fell with his centralism, but it is not 
proved that the same would have befallen him with a truly 
representative government. 

From all we have said it will amply appear that we no way 
agree with those who deplore the fall of Napoleon as an irrep- 
arable loss for the people. The conduct of the monarchs who 
dethroned him led the people to sigh for the absent one, 
for his oppression was not felt when theirs pinched ; but the 
acts of the succeeding governments alter nothing in the deeds 
and tendency of the emperor. His brilliant, crushing des- 
potism was worse, and, whether or not, his downfall was neces- 
sary if Europe was to march towards liberty. If new diffi- 
culties have arisen, they must be overcome, but they change 



436 ESSA VS. 

nothing in the necessity of his downfall. We consider it piti- 
ful to side in the present conflict with the Russians, because, 
forsooth, we do not like the Turks. The Turks will one day- 
be driven from Europe, and ought to meet that fate, but Rus- 
sian despotism and arrogance must not on that account be 
allowed to swell without repulse. The fall of Napoleon was 
simply a historical consistency and necessity. 

The following is the translation of the letter promised to 
the reader : 

Letter of Count Survilliers (Joseph Bonaparte) to Francis 
Lieber. 

" Point Breeze, 1 ist July, 1829. 

" Sir, — I have only this day received your letter of the 22d 
of June, on my return from a journey of several days to New 
York. I have read the article which you have sent me ; I 
return it immediately as you desire. The number of works 
on the Emperor Napoleon is so large, that the catalogue of 
them alone would be a work; you know many of them. I 
have under my eyes a work, entitled Commentarii di Napo- 
leone, printed at Brussels in 1827, which is not mentioned in 
the list I return to you ; nor is the work of Botta mentioned; 
both are written in Italian. Among the works enumerated in 
the note in question there are many which are evidently libels, 
paid for by the enemies of the revolution and the empire. 
There are others — works of passion, dictated by disappoint- 
ment and spite. Those of the writers of St. Helena them- 
selves contain details evidently false ; but they represent, in 
mass, sufficiently well the general views of the Emperor Napo- 
leon. When these authors speak of individuals, and when 
they write memoirs, they deceive themselves occasionally. I 
have the positive proof, regarding that which concerns my- 
self, in several cases. I have sent such evidence at the time 
even to Mr. Las Cases. The work of General Petet is that 
which seems to me to deserve the greatest confidence. The 
younger Segur has evidently had in view to reconcile himself 



Near Bordentown, New Jersey. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON 437 

with the new court ; grandson of the Marshal Segur who was 
minister of war to Louis the Sixteenth, his intention has 
been to make people forget how devoted he and his father 
have been to the Emperor Napoleon when powerful, etc. 
Walter Scott has written for the English government, from 
sources furnished by the government which followed that of 
the Emperor Napoleon. The Abbe de Montgaillard is an 
avowed enemy of the revolution and of Napoleon : the 
memoirs of Fouche are apocryphal, adjudged to be such by 
the courts of justice. Thibaudeau, convention-man andTher- 
midorian, strives to attribute to Napoleon steps the most ret- 
rograde, which the terror of the convention and the semi-royal 
terror that followed upon the 9th of Thermidor, had caused 
revolutionary France to make. Napoleon found France in a 
delirium ; he endeavored to preserve her from the anarchy of 
1793, and from the counter-revolution ; he floated with France 
in the middle of the wrecks of all parties, seeking to avoid all 
the rocks, making himself the slave of no party, in order to 
avoid making himself the enemy of all the others ; obeying 
that which in his conscience he believed to be the wants and 
wishes of France, which desired equality and liberty com- 
patible with civilization. She felt, like himself, that these 
benefits (which we see nowhere but in this new world) would 
be enjoyed only with a general peace — at the end of that in- 
terminable war which had necessitated his dictatorship, never 
of a tyrannical character, but called by the foreign enemies 
and men of a superficial mind the imperial despotism. That 
Napoleon had well understood the national will is sufficiently 
proved to posterity by his miraculous return from Elba. But 
the English cabinet has always opposed the cessation of this 
despotism in fanning the war, which obliged Napoleon to 
adopt all possible forms to reconcile the governments of con- 
tinental Europe with France. All that Napoleon has done, 
his nobility, which was not feudal, his family relations, his 
legions of honor, his new kingdoms, etc., he was obliged to 
do; the English have always forced him to do that which he 
has done, so that he might place himself in apparent harmony 



438 



ESS A VS. 



with all the governments which he had conquered, and which 
he wished to wrest from the seductions of England. The 
struggle has been long ; England has derived advantage from 
the character of the Emperor Alexander, who gave way ; x 
from that of the Emperor of Austria ; and the oligarchy of 
Vienna, of Moscow, coalesced themselves with that of Lon- 
don. They triumphed at last over Napoleon, over France, in 
sacrificing the future interests of the peoples, and the reigning 
houses of Europe, who had ended 2 in accommodating them- 
selves to the constitutions in which the peoples and the kings 
would have found their advantages. Some hundred aristo- 
cratic families alone would have experienced some loss for the 
moment; and they would have found a just indemnity in the 
favor of their prince, in the public welfare, which would have 
been the result of an order of things, ordained by the degree 
of civilization to which we have attained. The good people 
of Germany have been misled, and England, at the moment 
of succumbing to the continental system, rose again by 
throwing down her enemy through the hands of the nations 
and kings that ought to have considered Napoleon and 
France (as things then stood 3 ) as the saviors, the moderators 
of the destinies of Europe, longing for legal equality, consti- 
tutional liberty, religious freedom, and a permanent peace, 
independent of the hordes of the north and the Gothic pre- 
judices of the nobles and priests of the middle ages. Napo- 
leon had taken the words to destroy the thing; 4 he often said 
to me : I stand in need of yet ten years to give complete liberty. 
He was the scholar of Plato and the philosophers, and yet he 
frequently repeated : ' I do not what I wish, but that which I 
can do ; these English force me to live from day to day.' 3 He 
stood in need of ten years of general peace. But I perceive 



x The original is: Alexandre, qui s 1 est fatigul. 

2 The original has, qui avaient fini par s'accorder. Probably the writer of the 
letter meant auraient. 

3 Aux termes ou elle (la France) en etait. 

* Napoleon avait pris les mots pour detruire les choses. 
S Ces Anglais me forcent & vivre au jour le jour. 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON 439 

that my answer is becoming a book — I write to you without 
preparation, as I would speak to you. I send you, as to 
myself, the only documents which I acknowledge as true — 
the biographical articles published in Europe are dictated by 
ignorance or passion." 

All the letters written by Joseph to the same correspond- 
ent contain the repeated expressions of the same views and 
the reiterated statements of Napoleon's words regarding the 
necessity of doing things which were not in his " system," 
because the English forced him thus to act. The sad neces- 
sity in which he considered himself placed, to vivre an jotir 
le jour, seems to have been frequently expressed in these very 
words by him to his older brother. The reader will recollect 
the emperor's words when urged by the Poles, after the defeat 
of the Prussians, in 1806, to re-establish the independence of 
Poland. " I am no god," he said, " I am not doing that which 
I would, but only that which I can do." Joseph told us once 
that several times, when the emperor had severely and even 
passionately rated some persons, he would say, when alone 
with his brother, " I must thus always wear a mask. If I do 
not show myself farouche on such occasions, everything 
would go wrong." Another time Joseph told us that at 
dinner the conversation had turned on the subject of ambi- 
tion and glory. Joseph had stoutly maintained that he cared 
nothing for all this, and that true happiness consisted in the 
peaceful enjoyment of life, remote from the anxieties of ambi- 
tion. " What is it to me," Joseph had observed, " that people 
mention my name after I am gone ?" Napoleon took umbrage 
at this, and after the company had dispersed, informed his 
brother that he did not desire him to repeat such discourse. 
All that Joseph had said might be very well for a philosopher, 
but that Napoleon's duty was to conquer victories, and that 
in accordance he must develop the most ambitious spirit. " I 
want men to consider it their highest glory to die on the 
battle-field," he said. "At some future period your views 
may obtain a proper place." 



440 



ESS A VS. 



These things are mentioned here simply as facts. The 
historian and statesman must weigh and probe them, as, in- 
deed, they must do with this entire letter, which at any rate 
is a remarkable document, even if it be taken in its narrowest 
possible limits ; namely, as the expression of those views with 
which the brother of Napoleon, who had been the recipient 
of the emperor's confidence, desired to impress an individual 
with whom Joseph was pleased to correspond. 

To examine and criticise this letter would require a work 
of commentaries on the whole career of the emperor. Nothing 
of the kind can be possibly expected here. We close our 
paper, adding but one remark on an expression of Joseph's, 
which, even in an off-hand letter, seems to be surprising. 
The writer says : Napoleon was the scholar of Plato and the 
philosophers (etait eleve de Platon et des philosophes). We do 
not understand this sentence, even if it were meant in the 
most hyperbolical sense. A scholar of Plato ? Of what work 
of Plato ? Of his Republic ? Napoleon took, as is known, 
every occasion of expressing his bond fide detestation and 
hatred of the " ideologues" as he called, in a bunch, all phi- 
losophers ; and Plato assuredly was ideologue, if any one was. 
In one of his letters to Joseph, then king of Naples, and 
which is published in the very collection from which the fore- 
going translation has been made, he distinctly and very posi- 
tively enjoins his brother to discountenance all homines de 
lettres, gens d* esprit, and philosophers ; telling him that they 
are nothing but coquettes. Napoleon was so positive on this 
point, that he may be said to have established a sort of school 
in this sense. No one who has lived any time in France can 
have helped observing what a deep-rooted contempt for legistes 
(lawyers), philosophers, and orators pervades the army and 
all true Napoleonists. A common dinner conversation with 
an officer is almost sure to bring it out. It was so at the time 
of Napoleon, and has ever since been so. The complaints of 
the arrogance of the army were universal in the reign of 
Napoleon. It had become an intolerable military aristocracy. 
Napoleon ended with falling into an idolatry of power, and 



WASHINGTON AND NAPOLEON ^ 441 

considering the profession of the soldier le plus noble de tons 
les metiers, as he calls it in one of his letters ; he forgot or he 
had never a true perception of the simple fact, that of all the 
mighty things, the mightiest, the sovereigns of the earth, are 
Will, Love, and Thought. 1 He acknowledged the first Did 
he acknowledge the two others of the triumvirate? 

Louis the Fourteenth was, at least in the shrewdness of 
perceiving the power of the sword and the pen, his superior. 
He took great care to conciliate the latter. 



1 Since this article was written the author has met with the following passage 
in Mr. Crowe's History of the Reigns of Louis XVIII. and Charles X., 
London, 1854: 

" But the more perfectly France became organized and disciplined for war and 
domination, the more unfit did it become to establish its influence peaceably and 
permanently over that Europe which it had conquered. For, thanked be Provi- 
dence and civilization, there are no rights which have been so modified and cur- 
tailed as those of conquest. Of old the victor might make of the vanquished 
his slave, and partition his territory to new holders. But the days of extermi- 
nating a people, of enslaving or dispossessing them, are past. The race and the 
soil remain, and the victors must devise some means of satisfying the wants, and 
even the pride of the vanquished ; for the rule of brute intimidation is far too 
ineffectual and costly. Had the French revolution achieved wide conquest, 
however turbulent and irregular its rule, in foreign countries, it would at least 
have found friends amongst the classes it emancipated, and by degrees it would 
have succeeded in the formation of allied states, republics like itself. But a 
military chief and an embryo emperor, commanding the. French soldiers, and 
through them master of the state, saw or would see nothing in other nations but 
monarchs like himself. With these alone he would negotiate — these alone con- 
ciliate or court. Napoleon, from character as well as position, was fitted to 
enact this part of the mere crowned head. His early experience made him 
acquainted with all that was abhorrent and impuissant in Democracy. He thus 
learnt to ignore the existence of a people altogether. His political optics were 
so formed as exclusively to discern princes and courts and armies. He neither 
knew what the -workpeople meant, nor the worth nor the power which it implied." 



A PAPER 

ON THE 

VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN.' 

COMPARED WITH THE ELEMENTS OF PHONETIC 
LANGUAGE. 



Language consists of signs, representing ideas. These 
signs are selected by the person who speaks, in accordance 
with the ideas prevailing in his own mind, in order to produce 
the reversed process in the individual spoken to; they are 
used for that process — the most wonderful and most impor- 
tant on this earth — of conveying ideas from one distinct indi- 
vidual to another; for the communion of mind with mind, 
through sensuous impressions, made in skilful succession, 
and in accordance with general laws. Why, then, do all 
languages consist of phonetic signs? There is no tribe 
known making exclusive use of ocular communion, conveying 
ideas chiefly by visible signs. Yet the eye conveys to the 
mind perceptions far more varied and enriching than all the 
other senses, and is an organ which, bating the developed 
phonetic language itself, contributes infinitely more to the 
formation of the mind than the sense of hearing. Even the 
word sign is used in common parlance for that only which is 
perceptible by the eye. Signal is used for visible and audible 
signs, but sign receives a general meaning only by the gen- 
eralizing inquirer. 

1 First published in the Smithsonian Contributions to Knowledge, Washington, 
in the month of December, 1850. The present is an enlarged edition. 

443 



444 



ESS A VS. 



If persons who do not understand each other's languages, 
nevertheless must commune, a wrecked sailor, for instance, 
with an inhabitant of a foreign shore, they generally take, first 
of all, refuge in ocular signs. The Rev. Mr. Gutzlaff tells us 
that the Chinese accompany their speech with a great many 
visible signs, without which the audible ones cannot be under- 
stood. 1 The orators of all nations accompany their spoken 
words with signs intended for the eye, in a greater or less 
degree, voluntarily or impulsively, unconsciously or artisti- 
cally. Why, then, we repeat, do we find nowhere a regularly 
or logically developed ocular language ? It is no sufficient 
answer that the phonetic signs uttered by the infinitely pliable 
organs of the human voice present a greater variety than all 
those that can be produced by the other organs. We are, 
indeed, able to make this discovery now, when all the infinite 
blessings of a phonetic language surround us in our intercourse 
with fellow-men, and are spread before us, reduced again to 
visible signs in literature ; but how was man led to develop 
these riches, when, as we have seen, he readily resorts to 
ocular signs, and stands in need of them even after he has 
been possessed of all the wealth of auricular language? 
Had God left it to the invention of man, before he could 
know to what amount of utility, enjoyment, refinement, affec- 
tion, elevation, thought, and devotion his phonetic commu- 
nion, and its representatives in writing, would lead, man could 
never have attained to the prizes of language and literature. 
But Providence, in this as in all other elements of civilization, 
has, by organic laws of our nature, forced men into that path 
by which alone their starting in the career of progress could 
be unfailingly secured — by laws which oblige man to set out 
in the right direction. 

A clearer insight into the phonetic origin of human language 
is important both to the philosopher and the physiologist. 



1 The Chinese have even the belief that there is a word expressive of all ex- 
cellence, and so exquisite, that no one can pronounce it; but that it can only be 
written, or be perceived by the eyes. The sixth of Dr. Blair's Lectures on Rhetoric 
and Belles-Lettres may be read, with reference to this subject, not without profit. 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 445 

All appreciation of truth conduces to a purer state of the 
mind, a wider spread of knowledge, and, ultimately, to an 
intenser devotion to God. It is my object to give in this 
paper a contribution to this great inquiry, for which the vocal 
sounds of Laura Bridgman, a female endowed with a peculi- 
arly active mind, but deprived from earliest infancy of sight 
and hearing, and nearly destitute of taste, seem to offer a 
singularly fit opportunity. 

I have always read with attention the annual reports of Dr. 
Howe on the education of this interesting being, by which 
he has acquired renown in both hemispheres. From year to 
year I have been in the habit of visiting Laura and her saga- 
cious teachers, who have succeeded in giving language, the 
power of verbal thought, and the means of intellectual and 
moral development to a being that seemed to be shut up 
within the loneliest prison-house that our minds can conceive 
of; apparently walled up, without one means of communion 
with fellow-beings, and possessed of one solitary channel of 
distinct perception — the confined sense of touch. Laura 
herself has unwittingly uttered forth the praise of the patience, 
affection, and wisdom of her teachers, and Dr. Howe has un- 
consciously written down a lasting monument of his work 
and of the success of his assistants, when, in the eighteenth 
report to the trustees of the Perkins Institution (1850), he 
says : " Often in the fulness of her heart she says, ' I am so 
glad I have been created.' Laura, who cannot see the joyous 
light of the day, who cannot hear the sounds of life, and for 
whom the flower scents in vain, rejoices in her creation, and are 
we — but I am not writing on religion." 

At length I passed three entire months in the immediate 
neighborhood of Laura, saw and observed her daily, while 
every possible facility was extended to me by Dr. Howe and 
his assistant teachers. Among other things, I paid attention 
to her vocal sounds. 

In order to be better understood in the following pages, and 
to prevent misunderstanding on some material points, I would 
refer to a lecture of mine on the origin of the first constituents 



446 ESSAYS. 

of civilization. 1 To what has been said there I would add the 
following observations : 

The origin of all utterance is emotional. This applies to 
man and brutes ; but utterance soon acquires in man a very 
different character. 2 With the animal it remains forever 
almost exclusively emotional; in some rare cases it approaches 
the character of language. 

All emotion excites the nervous system, or consists in an 
excitement of the nervous system, which, so long as we re- 
main in the body, is linked to the mind by such mysterious 
laws. This excitement becomes apparent by a variety of 
phenomena. A person in joyful surprise before a Correggio, 
exclaims "Ah!" and quickly brings both hands together: an 
irritable person says, " Come here, I say!" rapping the table in 
quick succession, beating repeatedly the floor with his foot, 
and knitting his brows with the contraction of impatience : a 
frightened dog runs howling away, and drops the ears and tail; 
or, however lazily he may be lying on the ground, he slightly 
moves the tip of the tail at hearing his master's footsteps : an 
orator winds up by saying, " But the people will suffer it no 
longer," opening wide his eyes, shaking his lifted right hand, 
moving his head with an inclination of his whole person, and 



1 Published in 1845, an d reprinted in this volume, page 205. 

2 If the theory of Dr. Hartley be correct, the first elements of all languages 
would be reducible to the utterances either of pain or pleasure, which indeed 
I include in the term emotional. They would be at least the starting-points, 
although the other utterances, later indeed, as to time, cannot be represented as 
developments of the first two. It is a striking fact that the child utters pain long 
before it gives sound to the sensation of pleasure. I do not now allude to the 
first cry of life, with which the lungs for the first time are filled and expanded ; 
I mean the first emotional cries accompanying the desire for food. Pleasure 
continues to be silent for a long time. It is a fact worthy of notice, that with 
the exception of the birds, the utterance of pain seems strongly to prevail in the 
whole animal world, so much so that many beasts, when pleasure forces them to 
utterance at last, will break out in the cries of pain. A dog, wild with delight 
at seeing its master again, will bark and actually howl (as we weep with delight), 
and the cat, very much pleased by personal attention, has no other response than 
caterwauling. 

Still farther, how does it happen that all play of animals consists in sham fight- 
ing and biting ? 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BR IDG MAN. 447 

pronouncing his words slowly, solemnly, and in a deep tone : 
a hungry cat, sitting by the table, utters plaintive sounds, and 
looks steadily at the child who is in the habit of feeding it, 
moving one of the forepaws, as if in the act of grasping some- 
thing. The little girl, in Europe as well as here, returns from 
school with the dactylic hop, the rhythmical expression of 
graceful limbs, while in the brain the feeling of perfect content- 
ment prevails (at least where savage fashion has not stultified 
the lovely childhood of the white race into premature stiffness, 
once peculiar to Asia, for Asia knows of no childhood) ; 
and vacant stupidity lets the lower lip drop until it almost 
reaches the chest. The cow, finding you have held out to her 
as pretended food something she cannot eat, shakes her head 
repeatedly, unconsciously as the lion lashes the ground with 
his tail, not because he intends doing it. 

All these respective manifestations, and the utterances them- 
selves, are phenomena arising in each case from one and the 
same cause. I would call them, therefore, symphenomena — 
a legitimate word, it seems, both in point of etymology and 
meaning. Our accent, our intonation, our gestures, the shrug- 
ging of the shoulders, the opening wide or half shutting of 
the eyes, the curling of the lip, the pointing involuntarily at 
objects, the rubbing the head in cases of perplexity, the ac- 
companying our words by depictive signs, laughing, blushing, 
smiling, weeping, moaning, with hundreds of other phenomena, 
are symphenomena of the idea or emotion prevailing at the 
time within us, and affecting the brain and nervous system. 

The human body has not inaptly been presented as the 
symbol of a commonwealth, but from the point of view from 
which we now consider it, it appears more like a system of 
centralism. The brain signals the received perceptions and 
evolved ideas alike to all departments and organs, and those 
that have the power of utterance, or the power of any other 
manifestation, exteriorize it accordingly. This is sympathy, and 
symphenomena are its manifestations. 

A very common, yet equally important, observation is that 
persons with amputated limbs will feel pain or other sensations 



448 ESSA VS. 

in the limbs that are no longer. It is the commonest com- 
plaint in hospitals, but a fact still more striking has been com- 
municated to me by an officer on whose words I place the 
fullest reliance. We were comparing notes regarding that 
peculiar pain of wounded persons which consists in a feeling 
of numbness, heightened to a sensation of the utmost discom- 
fort, frequently less easily endured than acute pain, when he 
informed me that after the amputation of his right arm this 
feeling of numbness in the right hand, no longer existing, fre- 
quently became so intolerable that he was obliged to submit 
his left hand to violent friction, in order to remove the pain in 
the amputated hand. The effect of friction was carried to the 
brain, where still the nerves felt the lost hand, and communi- 
cated a soothing feeling to it. 1 

The intimate connection of body and mind, and of the sen- 
sations of the former communicated to the latter, as well as 
of the affections of the latter communicated to the former, is 
constant, and forms a law of our very existence as human 
individuals so long as on this earth. The following is a fact 
so striking, and connecting itself so closely with our subject, 



1 The following is copied from the Boston Medical Journal : 
" It has been observed that persons who have lost a limb, or part of one, are 
at times very much troubled with an intolerable itching, or sometimes pain, in 
the fingers or toes of the extremity which is lost. A case of this kind lately 
presented itself to us for advice, which, being a little out of the common course, 
we have thought proper to give to our readers. A young man had his hand am- 
putated just above the wrist, on account of having it shattered by the bursting 
of a gun. This happened some two years since, and the deficiency is supplied 
by a wooden hand. 

"At times he tells us that he has the most intolerable itching between these 
wooden fingers; in fact, insupportable, and, .to use his own words, he would 
give a hundred dollars for the chance of giving them a scratching. At other 
times he has much pain where the fingers should be, and he can only obtain relief 
by altering their position. When free from the pain or itching, he can discover 
no difference between that hand and the sound one. He can will the fingers of 
the lost hand to act, and they seem to obey. At times the ends of the fingers 
are quite numb and cold ; being partly flexed, he feels that he has not the power 
to extend them. There are other phenomena connected with this case, which, 
with those we have given, would be very difficult to account for on physiological 
principles." 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 449 

that I must not withhold it. I guarantee the truth of the state- 
ment. 

A public teacher had some artificial teeth, which, occasion- 
ally, he took out of the mouth before he went to bed, where 
he frequently delivered, in his dreams, parts of lectures which 
had occupied him shortly before going to bed, because he was 
going to deliver them in the morning. These dreamt lectures 
were purely mental, and not uttered in the sleep, yet whenever 
he came to a word not easily pronounced without the removed 
teeth, he mentally stammered and was obliged repeatedly to 
try the pronunciation, purely mental as it was, until he suc- 
ceeded and could go on with his lecture, unuttered, yet 
mentally spoken. 

The subject of symphany appears in its full importance when 
we consider the origin and extent of communion between men; 
for the simple symphenomena of emotions, which cannot be 
perceived, become symptoms for the beholder. Crying, wring- 
ing the hands, and uttering plaintive sounds are the spontane- 
ous symphenomena of despair. He in whom they appear does 
will them ; but he who beholds or hears them recognizes them, 
because they are spontaneous, and because he is endowed 
with the same nature, and he knows them as symptoms of 
despair. 

The biographer of Margaret Gottfried, executed for having 
successively poisoned between twenty and thirty persons, in- 
forms us 1 that after one of the last interviews with the minister, 
in which she had feigned profound contrition, she was seen, so 
soon as left alone, and believing herself unobserved, to look 
sharply before her and rub her chin. When the police-officer 
rattled the keys, as if in the act of opening the door, she would 
stop, but resume rubbing her chin and her eager look when she 
thought the officer had passed. Why does her careful biog- 
rapher mention it ? Why did the police-officer report it to 
him ? Why did the criminal stop rubbing her chin ? No 



1 The poisoner Gesche Margaret Gottfried, by Dr. F. L. Vogel, her Defensor. 
Bremen, 1831 (in German), containing her life and trial. 
Vol. I. — 29 



450 



ESS A VS. 



reasons are given in the book, but it is stated that her repent- 
ance was feigned, and that she hoped for pardon to the last. 
She knew that the symphenomenon of contrition is a relax- 
ation, an utter giving up ; and they knew that anxiously rub- 
bing the chin is a symphenomenon of perplexity and nervous 
fretting. It became a symptom, and as such is noted down, 
because the writer felt that every reader would take it as such, 
and, consequently, as an appropriate and completing addition 
to the narrative. 

So soon, however, as the symphenomenon is recognized as 
symptom, that step is taken which leads to real communion. 
Its outward form is intentionally produced ; it is imitated or 
indicated ; the symptom passes over into the sign. Tears are 
the symptom of grief; the fingers drawn from the eyes over 
the cheeks where real tears flow, and a doleful expression of 
the face, become the sign of grief. Trace the history of such 
a word as sniveller up to its origin. There is no invention in 
the case ; no conventional agreement upon an arbitrary sign ; 
but there is, nevertheless, a development of a sign by rational 
beings out of that which they at first produced involuntarily 
as sentient creatures. The latter man has in common with 
the brute. The animal world is full of symphenomena. Man, 
however, is capable and stands in need of far more symphe- 
nomena, because he is susceptible of a far greater variety of 
impressions, and, as to the first — the transformation of the 
symphenomenon into an intentional sign — belongs to the de- 
fining, generalizing, and combining power of reason. The 
nursery, that spot where the history of mankind is lived over 
again in more than one respect, furnishes us with many 
instances of this important process. 

The theory of symphany finds a wide and, I conceive, a 
fruitful application in many different branches of moral and 
physical knowledge ; but we have to deal with it here so far 
only as it affects the origin of phonetic language and the vocal 
sounds of Laura Bridgman. 

Symphenomena show themselves in all of us. Art even 
cultivates them, and draws them within the sphere of studied 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 451 

elocution. But they are most observable with untutored 
beings — with children and uncivilized tribes; or with the 
educated adult, when deep emotion breaks through the tran- 
quil repose which is the general characteristic of cultivated 
life. Every one knows how vehement the expressions of 
grief, joy, despondency, love, or revenge are with savages, 01 
how a sudden calamity produces all the symphenomena in 
their native and unrestrained variety in polished men or 
women. " Kiss me, Hardy — kiss me !" exclaimed Lord Nel- 
son — a sailor and an Englishman, whose race abhors the kiss- 
ing of men — when Captain Hardy had told him that the shout 
which the admiral had heard was that of victory, .and he felt 
his life rapidly ebbing away. Language itself remains subject 
to all the laws of symphenomena. A willing language and 
ready speech have a soothing effect, while the unsuccessful 
struggle of the mind to give itself forth creates uneasiness and 
excitement. Savages speak loud ; excited people are thrown 
into the highest passion, wholly disproportionate according to 
their own standard, when not possessed by the skill of expres- 
sion, or when too much excited to find words. Petulance in 
many persons is in a great measure owing to the fact that they 
have never learned to arrange their thoughts and to marshal 
their feelings according to grammar. There is a native pleas- 
ure of its own in expression, which every good poet, every 
well-taught orator, and even every reader of a sound writer 
enjoys. It delights us to peruse a writer whose words convey, 
along with their meaning, the power to convince us that his 
words cover all his thoughts, and lap over nowhere. And 
there is equally an uneasiness produced by the consciousness 
of inadequate expression. I observed in my boyhood that the 
people in Germany, when Russian soldiers were quartered 
with them, would always talk very loudly with them, though 
the Russians could not understand a word; and they talked 
the louder the more they wished to be understood, and the 
less they were so. I observed this with the educated as with 
the uneducated. Persons of a lively imagination give fre- 
quently an answer in a rough tone, simply because they hap- 



452 



ESS A VS. 



pened to think intensely, or to think of something exciting, 
when asked about something which did not induce them to 
reply sharply. The abrupt character of the answer is a sym- 
phenomenon which does not belong to the effect produced 
by the question. When the revolutionary movements of 1848 
took place in Germany, I began to dream again in German, 
even of subjects unconnected with that which occupied my 
mind so much, and the inmates of my house observed that 
I fell more frequently into the German language, or gave 
German turns to my English. 

As a matter of course, symphenomena appear strongly in 
Laura Bridgman ; and, if unrestrained, will show themselves 
at times so forcibly as to be distasteful to others. They were 
therefore restrained by her teachers, for the same reason that 
we often check them in children. The object of Laura's edu- 
cation was to make her fit for social intercourse ; and the 
vehement demonstrations of her feelings, voluntary or not, 
would have interfered with this laudable end. 

I must here guard against a possible misunderstanding of 
the preceding words, and prefer the text to the foot-note, be- 
cause I consider the fact of great interest to us and due to the 
unfortunate maid. Some readers may suspect that it has been 
difficult to restrain this blind deaf-mute on the score of de- 
corum, because she can have conceived no idea of good breed- 
ing by constant and involuntary observation of the well bred 
around her, as we do from our earliest infancy. Yet, remark- 
able as the fact may be, Laura has at no time of her life failed 
against the nicest delicacy. We have the word of all her 
teachers for this surprising fact ; and every one who has had 
an opportunity of observing her will agree with me that her 
conduct is marked throughout by a delicate feeling of pro- 
priety. I confess that this is very remarkable when we con- 
sider the offensive conduct of many savage tribes; but it only 
shows that delicacy of behavior and propriety of demeanor are 
natural to man, though they may not be always primitive. 
They require development, like most things which are essen- 
tially natural to the mind and soul of man. This development 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 453 

may be individual, or it may belong to the tribe, the race, and 
yet may have become more or less inherent. 

Laura blushes and weeps, laughs and smiles, as we do. 
The morning rays of humanity broke upon her soul with all 
the spontaneous signs of emotion. The dawning of new ideas 
upon her; the anxiety to understand and the joy at having 
understood ; the darkening difficulty before her mind, and the 
consciousness that her teacher was anxious to convey some- 
thing to her, like a sweet fruit through a prison-window, which 
she could not touch, and the joy of having gotten it at last — 
ail these emotions depicted themselves by her opening or 
closing the mouth, her blushes and her growing pale, her 
frowns and her laughs. These are what may be called direct 
or absolute symphenomena, requiring no more an act of aiding 
volition than the throbbing of the heart does ; but I have seen 
her stamping with joy — an impulsive phenomenon which we 
observe in a more regulated form, brought under the influence 
of volition (as the original impulsive tone is at a later period 
voluntarily pronounced as a word) in the form of applause in 
large assemblies. When Laura was speaking to me 1 of a cold 
bath, the idea prevailing at the time in her mind produced the 
motion of shivering. This was for her purely symphenom- 
enal ; but it became to me, who was looking at her, a sign or 
symbol, because it expressed the effect which the cold water 
had produced on her system. 

When Laura is astonished or amazed, she rounds and 
protrudes her lips, opens them, breathes strongly', spreads her 
arms, and turns her hands with extended fingers upwards, just 
as we do when wondering at something very uncommon. I 



1 For those wholly unacquainted with Laura's case I will simply state that 
Dr. Howe has succeeded in imparting to her a finger-language, or, to speak 
more correctly, finger-writing. She knows the value of words, and freely com- 
munes with every one who knows her finger-alphabet, which is formed in each 
other's hand. Her alphabet corresponds to our phonetic alphabet, although it 
represents no sound to her, but consists of signs of the touch, as the letters which 
the deaf-mute learns and reads are exclusively ocular signs, and have no phonetic 
value for him. 



454 



ESS A VS. 



have seen her biting her lips with an upward contraction of 
the facial muscles when roguishly listening at the account of 
some ludicrous mishap, precisely as lively persons among us 
would do. She has not perceived these phenomena in others ; 
she has not learned them by unconscious imitation ; nor does 
she know that they can be perceived by the by-stander. I 
have frequently seen her, while speaking of a person, pointing 
at the spot where he had been sitting when Laura last con- 
versed with him, and where she still believed him to be, as we 
naturally turn our eye to the object of which we are speaking. 
She frequently does these things with one hand, while the 
other receives or conveys words. When Laura once spoke 
to me of her own crying, when a little child, she accompanied 
her words with a long face, drawing her fingers down the 
face, indicating the copious flow of tears; and when, on 
New Year's day of 1844, she wished in her mind a happy 
new year to her benefactor, Dr. Howe, then in Europe, she 
involuntarily turned towards the east, and made with both her 
outstretched arms a waving and blessing motion, as natural to 
her as it was to those who first accompanied a benediction 
with this symphenomenon of the idea, that God's love and 
protection might descend in the fulness of a stream upon the 
beloved fellow-being. This movement, though solemn, was 
as spontaneous with Laura as another of a ludicrous character 
was to a lively Italian, who told me, at Rome, that a friend on 
whom I called had just left the house on horseback, and ac- 
companied the words by putting two fingers of the right hand 
astride on the digit of the left. He had no fear that I might 
not understand him, for he was freely conversing with me. 
With both, the gestures were simply symphenomena of the 
ideas entirely occupying their minds at the time. 

A young lady to whom Laura is affectionately attached has 
a short, delicate, and quick step, which Laura has perceived 
by the jar " going through the feet up to the head," as she 
very justly describes it. One day she entered the room, affect- 
ing the same step ; and when asked by the young lady why 
she did so, she promptly replied, "You walk thus, and I 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 455 

thought of you." Here the question made her conscious 
that her imitative step was a symphenomenon, and nothing 
more, of the idea of that young friend of hers, then upper- 
most in her mind. 

On page 37 of Dr. Howe's tenth report, we find the account 
of a conversation between Laura and one of her teachers on 
an insect. Laura asked, " Has he think ?" touching at the 
same time her forehead — (for a reason similar to that by 
which Dr. Spurzheim explained the fact that Sterne's portrait 
represents him pointing unconsciously to the spot which the 
phrenologists believe to correspond to the organ of wit). 
Laura continued to ask, " Does he breathe much?" at the 
same time putting her hand on her chest and breathing hard. 
On page 44 of the thirteenth report, an account is given of 
Laura's relation of a dream. She said, " I dreamed that God 
took away my breath to heaven," accompanying her words 
with a sign of taking something away from her mouth. Who 
can help remembering here the fresco paintings of the Campo 
Santo, at Pisa, where, with an equally infantine conception of 
the removal of human souls, angels are represented drawing 
the souls out of the mouths of the dead ? Or who does not 
at once recollect the many languages, ancient and modern, in 
which breath and spirit are designated by the same word ? 

In none of these cases does the remarkable girl, blind, 
deaf and dumb, as she is, intend to illustrate by gesture, or 
any other sign, the meaning of her words, no more than we 
do by most of our gesticulations, frowns, smiles, or other ex- 
pressions, which, indeed, we often show unconsciously; so 
much so, that they actually betray us. In one word, they are, 
as has been repeatedly said, symphenomena. 

But the symphenomena of an agitated mind, or of strong 
affections, show themselves most readily, and in the greatest 
variety, as effects of the respiratory organs, because these are 
most easily affected, being of a peculiarly delicate character; 
because the voice can be modulated almost without end ; and 
because, in fact, comparatively few affections suggest images 
to be imitated by ocular signs. Strong emotion requires 



456 ESSAYS. 

manifestation : it will out, to use a colloquial term, and utter- 
ance of some sort is the consequence. We have this process 
in common with the brutes ; but the affections of the latter 
are circumscribed, and their organs of utterance infinitely 
more limited than those of man. Uncouth, or, at any rate, 
inarticulate sounds are uttered by man before his lip is blessed 
with the rational word, or his mind with verbal thought, and 
man falls back upon the inarticulate sounds when his emotion 
overflows the usual channels of expression — when unspeak- 
able love or convulsive wrath, stunning fear or transcending 
admiration, overpowers him. A parent who clasps his lost 
child again within his arms ; a person who beholds the sea 
for the first time ; a man suddenly insulted to the quick by 
stupendous falsehood ; a maiden to whom, unwarned, a hideous 
death presents itself — these are not apt to give utterance in 
words, but they breathe forth their emotions in primitive and 
inarticulate sounds. I once heard a colored preacher describ- 
ing the torments of future punishment. He rose, not inelo- 
quently, from the description of one anguish to another, when 
at last, carried away by uncontrollable excitement, he merely 
uttered, for more than a minute, a succession of inarticulate 
sounds. 

Where, however, is the limit between articulate and inartic- 
ulate sounds ? What is articulation ? 

I believe that, unconsciously, we generally consider sounds 
articulate when, while we hear them, the mind can spell or 
trace them with our accustomed alphabet. The clucking 
tones of some savages, the pure guttural sounds of others, 
and those sounds which we cannot even indicate by a name, 
appear to the missionary, who first hears them, inarticulate, 
because he does not hear in them the elements, called letters, 
to which he is accustomed. Yet these sounds belong to lan- 
guages, however rude, and are undoubtedly articulate. Whis- 
tling is no articulate sound. It may never have become an 
element of human speech (except indeed as a sort of familiar 
interjection of mischievous surprise at finding an unexpected 
and somewhat ludicrous issue), because the human organ can- 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 457 

not readily pass over to it from other sounds, nor easily return 
from it to them ; but if whistling had become part of a speech, 
and a missionary had invented a sign for it, would we not call 
it an articulate sound ? / 

William von Humboldt says: 1 "The intention and the ca- 
pacity of meaning something, not something general, but the 
capacity of designating thought by representation, in this alone 
consists the articulate sound, and nothing else can be given to 
designate, on the one hand, the difference between the articu- 
late sound and the cry of animals, and, on the other hand, 
between it and the musical tone. It cannot be described ac- 
cording to its external character, but only according to its 
genesis, and this is no effect of a lack of skill or faculty in us, 
but it characterizes the articulate sound according to its pecu- 
liar nature, since it consists in nothing else than in the inten- 
tional production of our soul, and has only so much body as 
the external perception absolutely requires." The italicizing 
is Humboldt's own. The intentional production of a sign, 
or of a sign to represent something thought, are, therefore, 
according to that great comparative philologer, the essential 
characteristics of articulate sound. 

I believe he is mistaken, whether he meant by " producing 
the sound," each particular utterance, or the first genesis of 
the designating sound — the word. Thoughts and feelings 
may be expressed without articulate sounds, although inten- 
tionally. Thieves agree upon a shrill signal of warning, which 
becomes unquestionably a sound intentionally produced to 
express something thought, but no one can call it an articu- 
late sound; and mere ejaculations, neither intentional nor 
expressive of something thought, but as impulsive as a groan 
or the sound accompanying sobbing, may nevertheless consist 
in articulate sounds, as thousands of interjections in the differ- 
ent languages prove. The meaning of the term articulation 
must be sought first of all in the sound itself, and it seems to 



1 Page lxxi. of his elaborate work on the Kawi Language on the Island of Java, 
1st vol., Berlin, 1836. 



458 ESSAYS. 

me that we can give no other definition of an articulate sound 
than that it is an unbroken emission of a sound which is com- 
posed of those elements for which we have not even a befit- 
ting name when uttered, but which, when written, are called 
letters y and which are, very nearly exclusively, belonging to 
the human organs of speech. Such sounds are called articu- 
late, because their succession divides or articulates the human 
speech into one-sounded parts — into joints or single emissions, 
called syllables. 1 These distinct sounds, their combinations 
and repetitions, make it possible for man to have a phonetic 
language, or a system of sounds by which he can convey ideas, 
and, so far, there exists the closest connection between reflection 
and articulation, between thought and word ; but there can be 
articulation without distinct thought or intended conveyance 
of ideas, as was the case in that remarkable instance of the 
sound titnoss y of which mention will be made in a future note ; 
nor is it possible to deny that the parrot having learned to 
pronounce Pretty Poll as plainly as we can do it, utters, in 
this case, articulate sounds. If it were objected that these 
sounds are a mere imitation of sounds originally produced by 
the intention of expressing something thought, it would be 
equally erroneous ; for the genesis of words does not consist 
in willed expression of thought. Yet neither these, nor any 
remarks contained in the present memoir, have been made to 
deny the close connection between thought and word. So 
soon as man has a distinct idea, he feels the yearning to speak 



1 It is a fact which will not be without interest to philologers, that twice in 
modern times, when intelligent men had received from our race the idea of the 
possibility to express thoughts by signs on some material, they invented syllabic 
alphabets for their tribes. Doalu Bukara invented for his tribe, the Vei nation, 
in the interior of Africa, syllabic writing, consisting of about two hundred signs. 
According to the statement of Lieut. Forbes, R.N., this invention must have taken 
place not very long after George Guest, a full-blooded Cherokee Indian in our 
country, invented his syllabic alphabet, about thirty years ago. He knew that 
the white man could send his thoughts to a distance without sound, and his ana- 
lytic mind led him to the elements of language — the syllable. The phonetic 
syllabic alphabet is unquestionably the more natural, but by no means the most 
practical and useful. Had our race fallen on syllabic alphabets, as the Chinese 
on word-writing, our civilization must have been incalculably retarded. 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 459 

it out, and if he has a distinct idea of a single thing he longs 
to name it. This seems to be the chief meaning of the 19th 
verse of the second chapter of Genesis. The necessity and 
longing to name animals is placed thus early in the history 
of the creation, and this implanted yearning is expressed in 
the remarkable line which says that the Creator led the animals 
to Adam "to see what he would call them." By a natural trans- 
position, words are ascribed to animals so soon as we imagine 
them with distinct thoughts similar to our own, as the early 
fable shows. I was looking lately at a negro who was occu- 
pied in feeding young mocking-birds by the hand. " Would 
they eat worms ?" I asked. The negro replied : " Surely 
not ; they are too young ; they would not know what to call 
them." A singular commentary, almost touching in its sim- 
plicity, on the passage in Genesis to which allusion has been 
made. His idea was, they would not know what to make of 
them, and imagining the unfledged birds thinking, the idea 
that they would not know what to call them was instantly 
produced. Thinking of the worms, and calling them, were 
convertible ideas in the negro. 

Observation shows us that every emotion quickens the res- 
piration, or causes an oppression of the chest, which seeks 
relief by violent inhaling. This is the origin of our sighs, 
laughter, moaning, and those exclamations of Ah, Eh, Oh, 
which are gradually cast into articulate sounds, and many of 
which become regular words, classified according to systematic 
grammar, such as alas, helas, pooh, bah, umph, pshaw, ototoi, 
ecco, ecce, halloo, huzzah, and of which we have so remark- 
able an instance in Sophocles, who makes Philoctetes exclaim — 

" Attatai, otottotoi apappapai, papa, papa, papa, papai !" 

And in Dante's : 

" Pape Satan, pape Satan, alleppe !" 

Laura utters a loud sound of o f with a strong aspirate, 
inclining almost to the sound /, which might be written 
somewhat in this manner, " Ho-o-ph-ph !" when she is highly 



4 6o ESS A YS. 

excited by wonder. We do the same when the laws of 
propriety do not prevent us from giving vent to our feeling 
of amazement. And the actor of the broad farce accompanies 
his assumption of stupid surprise with the same exclamation, 
because, in his endeavor to caricature, he stands in need of 
the imitation of strongly marked symphenomena. 

Frequently I have heard Laura expressing a feeling of sat- 
isfaction by a subdued tone, somewhat between chuckling and 
a slight groaning. 1 

Utterance, produced by increased activity of the respiring 
organs, and varied by the pliable vocal organism, and the 
great movability of the lips and tongue, is so direct and 
natural an effect of the excited nervous substance, that sounds 
of grief, pain, affection, disgust, contempt, despair, pity, fear, 
attention, admiration, mockery, surprise, wrath, entreaty, 
delight, approval, caution, or submission, are as natural even 
to us, tutored and trained as we are from early infancy, both 
by positive instruction and the ever active imitative principle, 
as are the wholly spontaneous symphenomena of growing 
pale or wringing the hands. Laura actually once, when re- 
minded by one of her teachers that she ought not to indulge 
in her uncouth sounds, which resemble those made by deaf- 
mutes, 2 answered, " I do not always try not to make them." 
The teacher urged the reasons why it is desirable she should 
restrain them, and was answered, " But I have very much 
voice." Laura went farther, and added, " God gave me much 
voice;" thus strikingly pointing out a truth of elemental im- 
portance to the philosopher. Yielding, however, to the 
arguments against this "voice," she will at times go into her 
closet, and shutting her door, " indulge herself in a surfeit of 
sounds." (Page- 27 of thirteenth report.) This seems to me 



1 I would have said grunting, as more accurately expressing the sound, had I 
not felt reluctant to use this word in connection with that amiable and delicate 
being. 

8 A number of deaf-mutes, whom I accompanied to the top of a high tower, 
commanding a very wide and imposing view, uttered their surprise and delight 
in tones resembling those of some wild fowl — hoarse and chattering screams. 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 461 

not only very interesting and instructive, but also deeply 
touching. 1 

A missionary of my acquaintance, whose word I noways 
doubt, informed me that one day he was travelling in the 
distant west of our Union with a young man who was greatly 
pleased with something that had been said. Becoming excited, 
the young traveller asked his friend to excuse him for a 
moment, whereupon he uttered a tremendous yelling. This 
done, he declared that the indulgence had done him much 
good, and the thread of the conversation was resumed. Nor 
will any one feel disposed to doubt the truth of .this account, 
who is acquainted with the shouts which the less educated of 
the thinly-peopled parts of the west and south set up on all 
occasions of any excitement; not only at barbacues, but even 
when a few persons are met, and something considered pecu- 
liarly laughable or " smart" has been said. 2 When poor 
Laura retires into her closet, freely to revel in her sounds, she 
only does what we ourselves do when we have checked our 
desire to laugh, but indulge in it so soon as we find ourselves 
alone, or in presence of those persons only before whom we 
do not feel obliged to repress the symphenomenon. Indeed, 
Laura does no more, although in inarticulate sounds, than we 
do when, thoroughly impressed with some feeling, we speak 
to ourselves where no one can hear us. And it may be 
remarked, that the least tutored are most given to these solil- 
oquies. There are many negroes in the south upon whom it 
is utterly impossible to impose silence when they are in a state 
of excitement, though they may not speak to any one, and 
may not be actuated by any feeling of opposition. 

I ask permission to mention here a fact, which has always 



1 She will also, when deeply grieving, shut herself up, and seek comfort in 
unrestrained weeping. 

2 A reviewer of the passage given above has given the additional fact that he 
was present at a performance of Fanny Elssler in some southern theatre. After 
each successful pirouette and unexpected movement of that celebrated dancer a 
simultaneous shout, like a general war-whoop, was uttered forth by the excited 
audience. 



462 ESSA VS. 

appeared to me very remarkable, although I own it does not 
relate to Laura's vocal sounds. I may not have another 
opportunity to place it on record, and am convinced that it 
deserves being known. Laura constantly accompanies her 
yes with the common affirmative nod, and her no with our 
negative shake of the head. Both are with her in the strictest 
sense primitive symphenomena of the ideas of affirmation and 
negation, and not symphenomena which have gradually be- 
come such by unconscious imitation, as frequently may be 
the case with us. The nodding forward for assent, and the 
shaking of the head or hand from side to side for dissent, 
seem to be genuine symphenomena accompanying these two 
ideas. Assent and dissent are closely allied to the ideas of 
favor and disfavor, which are naturally accompanied by an in- 
clination toward, or a turning from, the real or ideal object. 
The very word aversion points to this symphenomenal fact. 
When we signify assent or dissent with the hand, a similar 
sign is observed. 

The Italians move repeatedly the lifted digit from right to 
left, as a sign of negation, while the modern Greeks throw 
back the head, producing at the same time a clucking noise 
with the tongue. Laura makes at present these signs, even 
without writing a Yes or No in the hand of the person with 
whom she converses, having learned, but not having been 
told, that somehow or other we perceive this sign, or that it 
produces upon us the desired effect, although she is unable to 
solve the great riddle of the process by which this is done. 
Laura, far below our domestic animals, so far as the senses 
are concerned, but infinitely above them because she is 
endowed with a human mind, has attained to the abstractions 
of affirmation and negation at a very early age, while no dog 
or elephant, however sagacious, has been known to rise to 
these simple ideas, for which every moment even of animal 
existence calls, wherever reflection sways over the naked fact. 

Laura, then, independently of sight and hearing — the two 
most suggestive senses in everything that appertains to lan- 
guage — felt an impulsive urgency to utter sounds as symphe- 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 463 

nomena of emotions, or vivid ideas, in common with all those 
human beings who have not attained to a language properly 
so called ; but at the very outset she met with the following 
obstacles: 

Laura cannot hear her own voice ; nor can she perceive the 
tones of others. She could not, therefore, learn to modify, 
vary, and articulate them according to a developed language, 
which is the successive work of many and long periods of 
civilization, How much our tones, in their infinite and 
significant modulations, owe to the fact that we move in a 
speaking society from earliest infancy, becomes manifest, when 
we consider the uncouth, broken, and animal sounds of the 
lowest savages, and, on the other hand, that even the utter- 
ances of the brute are modified by their intercourse with man. 
Mr. Jesse, in his Anecdotes of Dogs, London, 1846, ascribes 
this effect of the never-ceasing and every-varying hum of 
civilization to these animals. " It is," he says, " I believe, a 
fact, and if so a curious one, that the dog in a wild state only 
howls; but when he* becomes the friend and companion of 
man, he has, then, wants and wishes, hopes and fears, joys 
and sorrows, to which in his wilder state he appears to have 
been a stranger. His vocabulary, if it may be so called, then 
increases, in order to express his enlarged and varied emotions." 
Of course Mr. Jesse cannot mean by the words " in order to 
express," anything like inventive purpose on the part of the 
dog, but he must mean a combined effect of the widened 
circle of emotions in the animal, and the multiplied sounds 
of civilization which surround it, especially of the master's 
language or other tones addressed to it. 

The second great obstacle for Laura was, that she did not 
perceive the effect produced, in each case, by her sounds upon 
others. The idea of a specific force and value of a certain 
sound, which directly leads to the conception of the name or 
word, and facilitates all the means of designation, and of 
combining these means, could not easily, and never perfectly, 
appear to her. I shall presently dwell more at length upon 
this point. 



464 ^SSA YS. 

Lastly, Laura was positively interrupted in the formation 
even of her imperfect and elementary phonetic language, as I 
have stated before, in order to make her a being of intercourse 
in our society — in order to attach her as a living member to 
the community of civilization. This could not have been 
done had she been allowed freely to indulge in the harsh and. 
grating sounds which excited souls utter forth through a 
throat, untaught and unbred, so to say, by the harmony of 
developed civilization in which we move. 

I have already alluded to the distinction which we ought to 
make between merely spontaneous symphenomena and those 
which may be called secondary; that is, such as have become 
involuntary symphenomena by habit. If there was such a 
word as habital, I would use it as a more appropriate term for 
secondary symphenomena. 

The exclamation of sudden pain is one of the first class; 
speaking loudly with ourselves, when there is no one in our 
hearing, and when, perhaps, we would not wish to be over- 
heard, and the speaking in our dreams,, are instances of the 
second class. These secondary, or habital symphenomena, 
are also observed in Laura. She does not only frequently 
talk to herself with one hand in the other, waking or in her 
dreams, which is likewise seen with deaf-mutes who have been 
taught the finger alphabet ; but Laura, who has, as will be 
presently shown, certain particular sounds for distinct persons 
— names, or nouns proper, if we choose to call them so — utters 
these name-sounds for herself when she vividly thinks of these 
individuals. Dr. Howe's tenth report, page 30, contains the 
following passage: 

" Laura said to me, in answer to a question why she uttered 
a certain sound, rather than spelled the name, ' I think of Janet's 
noise ; many times when I think how she give me good things 
I do not think to spell her name.' 1 And at another time, 
hearing her in the next room make the peculiar sound for 



1 The tenth report was published in 1842. Laura speaks now far more cor- 
rectly. The damsel has, even by this time, acquired a great relish for what we 
would call high-sounding words. C est tout comme chez nous I 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 465 

Janet, I hastened to her, and asked her why she made it. She 
said, ' Because I think how she do love me much, and I love 
her much.' " 

It cannot be fairly objected that, if all that I have stated be 
true, it would lead to the inference that the deaf-mutes, and 
even the blind deaf-mutes, must be able to attain to a complete 
phonetic language. For, I have spoken only of the impulsive 
utterances which form the incipient elements of language, 
natural to the deaf and blind as they are to the hearing and 
seeing, and out of which words proper, with all their changes, 
combinations, and inflections, can be evolved only by con- 
stantly repeated and enduring vocal intercourse. Yet, it will 
be interesting carefully to inquire how far Laura Bridgman — 
blind and deaf, indeed, but endowed with a sprightly and deli- 
cate mind, and an affectionate soul — actually possesses the 
elements of our vocal language. 

For this purpose we may classify the verbal elements of all 
phonetic language in the following manner : 

Ejaculations, that is, primary phonetic symphenomena of 
the inner state of man. We have seen that Laura possesses 
them as a matter of course. The interjection is the articulate 
ejaculation received as legitimate part of human speech. If 
Laura has not the distinctly articulate interjections of devel- 
oped languages, it is because her state excludes her from 
a share in our stock of articulate sounds and words. For, 
articulation is the combined result of a reflecting mind ; of 
an acute ear, which hears the sounds of others and our 
own; of vocal organs, trained for many years.; of the effect 
of continued traditional utterance ; and of a skill, gradually 
acquired, unconsciously to analyze sounds which we per- 
ceive. 

As the second class may be mentioned positive imitations, 
or copies of sound — the onomatopy of the grammarians. 
Man resorts to it at the earliest periods, partly led to it by the 
inherent imitative principle ; partly because sound, wherever 
it is produced at all, is the most distinctive characteristic, and 
becomes the readiest sign for the being that utters it, inasmuch 
Vol. L— 30 



4 66 ESSA YS. 

as the ear perceives a sound, and nothing more ; while the 
eye perceives at once an object in all its visual relations, as an 
image which must be analyzed in order to be described. The 
eye perceives totalities, the ear single characteristics. It is 
incomparably easier to designate a sheep or a cataract, by 
imitating the bleating of the one or the rumbling noise of the 
other, than to describe them by words already existing, or by 
drawing outlines of these objects. All languages, therefore, 
are full of such words as sibilare, mutter, whiz, splash, bronte, 
claquer, knarren, lachen. 

Men, naturally, take refuge in the onomatopy, when they 
must commune with one another without mutually knowing 
their languages. There is a very interesting paper by the 
late Mr. Gallatin in the second volume of the Transactions 
of the New York Ethnological Society, on the "Jargon," or 
Trade Language of Oregon. The reader will find there a 
long list of onomatopies, such as are frequently formed in our 
nurseries, where the dog is called bow-wow, or the cow moo- 
moo. Thus the words tingting, he-he y mash, tumtiim, poo, 
signify in that Oregon Jargon, respectively, bell, to laugh, 
crushed or broken, the heart, to shoot. Onomatopies are all 
the time forming. Mr. Thackeray, in Pendennis, speaks of a 
boohoo laughter, and of the postman's rat-tat; Mr. Carlyle 
of the " titterings, teeheeings" of the French at the feast of 
the confederation ; while the words rap and knocker are 
formed of onomatopies. Whole poems, such as Burger's 
Lenore and Poe's Bell, are in a great measure formed on 
the onomatopy and that class of words whose sounds cor- 
respond, psychologically, with the ideas they express, a class 
of words which will be presently considered. 

Laura not hearing any tones, cannot, of course, originate 
onomatopies. 

Two other classes of words are at once formed from the 
two preceding ones. Interjections themselves are used at an 
early period as words (as I have heard children say, " This is 
fie," for this is naughty) ; but what is more important, inter- 
jections soon form the roots of other words. Thus the feel- 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 467 

mg of wonder seeks vent from every human breast in the 
symphenomenal sound of o, or one between <?and a (the latter 
as in father)? The ideas of admiration and wonder again, 
and more of height, tallness, power, are closely connected in 
the human intellect; so that we find in original languages 
words designating height, elevation, derived from this inter- 
jection, as the German Hoch y for high, which is nothing but 
the interjection o, wrapt as it were in strong aspirates. Every- 
where man cast shame upon others by an interjection sound- 
ing Aih ; and al86^ means in Greek, actions of which we 
ought to be ashamed ; and Aetschen, in German, means to call 
aih at a person, or strongly to deride him. Disgust, mingled 
with contempt, is expressed by all men by a symphenomenon, 
which consists of a sharp exhalation of the sound f, which is 
the combined effect of the lower lip being somewhat pro- 
truded, while the upper one is contemptuously drawn up, and 
the breath is strongly uttered — all, the effects of the prevailing 
feeling of disgust. This f sound leads to the universal inter- 
jection of fie, pfiri,fi, or <pso — the vowel, the most liquid ele- 
ment of speech, changing in the different languages, as it 
would with different individuals, before usage has settled one 
vowel as the adopted one. This fie, or fi (in French), is the 
root of the word Fien, to hate, in Low-German and ancient 
Franconian, and of Fian in Anglo-Saxon ; whence again the 
noun Fiend, in English, is derived, as likewise Fijend in Low- 
German, Feind in German, Fiende in Swedish, Fiant in ancient 
Franconian, and Vijand in Dutch, for hateful enemj', a 
malignant being. The Greek yed indicates more an interjec- 
tion of pain ; but that which is the utterance of pain becomes 
that of dislike if exclaimed at an object. The two ideas are 



x Vowels are in early languages, and in many settled ones, a floating substance. 
The old Sanscrit had but one sign for the vowels A, O, and E (pronounced as 
in Italian), and English vowels shift very frequently according to different degrees 
of education or localities. James was pronounced in former times Jeemes, and 
Here is pronounced Hare in some places. I have frequently observed that those 
who thus speak cannot hear the difference between the two words when they are 
correctly pronounced for them. 



4 6S ESSA YS. 

near akin. We have, therefore, <peo^co to indulge in sounds of 
woe, or to call <p^> ; and is not <psbya) f to flee (from that which 
makes us exclaim <peu, that is, from that which is painful, dis- 
agreeable to us), derived from the same root? Ototoi was 
the Greek articulated exclamation of grief, and drorb^to is to 
moan, to give vent to grief. The Greek language requires 
the addition of a termination which indicates the verb. The 
same would be the case in German. In English this neces- 
sity does not exist ; and a leading article of a distinguished 
London paper lately said of the secretary for foreign affairs, 
"He will pooh-pooh such particularity;" that is to say, he 
will dismiss such particulars disdainfully as trifles, while 
uttering the interjection pooh ! pooh ! 

A member of my own family showed, in early infancy, a 
peculiar tendency to form new words, partly from sounds 
which the child caught, as to %voh for to stop, from the interjec- 
tion w oil / used by wagoners when they wish to stop their 
horses; partly from symphenomenal emissions of sounds. 
Thus when the boy was a little above a year old he had made 
and established in the nursery the word Nim for everything 
fit to eat. I had watched the growth of this word. First, he 
expressed his satisfaction at seeing his meal, when hungry, by 
the natural humming sound, which all of us are apt to pro- 
duce when approving or pleased with things of a common 
character, and which we might express thus, km. Gradually, 
as his organs of speech became more skilful, and repetition 
made the sound more familiar and clearer, it changed into the 
more articulate um and int. Finally an N was placed before 
it, nim being much easier to pronounce than im, when the 
mouth has been closed. But soon the growing mind began 
to generalize, and nim came to signify everything edible; so 
that the boy would add the words good or bad, which he had 
learned in the mean time. He now would say good nim, bad 
nim, his nurse adopting the word with him. On one occasion 
he said, Fie nim, for bad, repulsive to eat. There is no doubt 
but that a verb to nim, for to eat, would have developed itself, 
had not the ripening mind adopted the vernacular language, 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 469 

which was offered to it ready made. 1 We have, then, here 
the origin and history of a word which commenced in a 
symphenomenal sound, and gradually became articulate in 
sound and general in its meaning, as the organs of speech, as 
well as the mind of the utterer, became more perfect. And 
is not the history of this word a representative of many thou- 
sands in every language, now settled and acknowledged as a 
legitimate tongue ? 2 

1 Since the lines above were written I found in No. iv. vol. i. of the Journal 
of the American Oriental Society, New Haven, 1849, p. 366, that to taste in the 
Susu dialect is nimnim. It is there called an onomatopeia, which is not quite 
correct. It is a word naturally (symphenomenally) produced by certain organs 
of speech nervously excited by the idea of tasting or of liking a taste, or to 
taste. 

The Susus inhabit the coast of Senegambia between the Rio Nunez and the 
Kissi, and speak a language kindred to the Mandingo. 

2 This child made other remarkable words. Every one who has studied the 
languages of our Indians, and some other tribes, as, for instance, that of the na- 
tives of Burmah, is struck with their words which express a number of ideas, 
indicated in our analytical tongues by a series of words. William von Humboldt 
called this process agglutination ; but as this term would indicate a joining of what 
has been separate before, which is by no means always the case, I preferred the 
term holophrastic words, in a paper on this subject which I published in the March 
number, of 1837, of the Southern Literary Messenger. It is for the same reason, 
that I preferred the term to that of polysynthetic words, which Mr. Du Ponceau 
had proposed. 

The child in question had become most impressed with the word good, when 
in connection with the noun boy ; that is to say, when he himself had been called 
a good boy, which he pronounced Goobboy. It formed one word for him, so 
much so that his infantine mind could not separate the two parts, in this case 
actually agglutinated, to use the term of William von Humboldt. When the child, 
therefore, one day desired to express the idea good cow, he said Goobboy cow. 
He found the same difficulty of expressing good cow, which many of our mission- 
aries have to contend with, when they desire to express Christian ideas by words 
which carry along with them numerous associated ideas of different things and 
relations. Father Sangermano, if I recollect aright, says in his work on Burmah, 
published by the Oriental Translation Fund, that he could not simply translate 
the passage in which it is related that a woman washed the feet of the Saviour; 
for, although there are ever so many words for washing in the Burmese language, 
yet each word carries along with it many conditions and relations of washing in- 
applicable in this case. So we find in Holden's Narrative (Boston, 1 836) that 
in the language of Lord North's Island the numeral one is yaht ; but when it 
refers to cocoanuts one is soo, and to fish, one is seemul. 



470 



ESS A VS. 



We meet with articulated sounds which are yet in a middle 
state between a pure interjection and a distinct word, as the 
German sweet expression, Eiapopeia, pronounced i-a-po-pi-a 
— the endearing and lulling sound with which the German 
mother sings her babe to sleep. Ei and Eia (the ^'pronounced 
i, as in fire) is the German symphenomenal sound of endear- 
ment which accompanies the patting of the rosy cheek of a 
child, and the maternal desire to bring down slumber upon 
the infant has drawn out this primitive sound into eiapopeia. 
Now, many cradle songs, as the Germans call the rhymes sung 
by the cradle side, begin with this — what must it be called, 
interjection or word? It is neither. At times, indeed, a 
" cradle song" is called an Eiapopeia. In this case it is a 
perfect noun. And is not the English lullaby much the same? 
The syllable by is the same sound by, which, in the gentle 
nursery idiom, means sleep, when the mother sings by, by, 
and lull is depictive of the act it designates. The French, 
when they desire to imitate the sound of the drum, say rata- 
plan, for which we say rub-a-dub, and the Germans have 
bi'umberum. They are imitative sounds, articulated, yet in 
an undefined state, so far as grammatical classification is con- 
cerned, while drum has become a distinct noun. 1 It may be 



Similar, so far as the connection of ideas is concerned, was the case of a little 
girl who, in my hearing, said to a man, Doctor naughty girl, because he had 
teased her. Her mind had received the idea of bad chiefly in conjunction with 
girl, that is, herself, when rebuked for some fault. " Bad girl" was, in her mind, 
one term, or a holophrastic word. 

Long as this note is, I cannot refrain from giving a bill, written by a Yorkshire 
hostler in Philadelphia, and given in Miss Leslie's Behavior Book, Philadelphia, 
1853. The bill was written thus : 

Anosafada ......... $2.50 

tahinonimome .37 

The first meant A horse (an 0%%) for a day, the second, Taking of him home. 
This is not agglutination but pulmentation. To speak seriously, these two words, 
looking so oddly to us when written, are nevertheless a striking instance of the 
growth of one kind of holophrastic words, out of an analytic language. 

1 Thus I wrote ; but Mr. Webster has since said, on July 17, 1850, " They have 
been beaten incessantly, every month, and every day, and every hour, by the din, 
and roll, and rub-a-dub of the abolition presses." He uses rub-a-dub as a noun, 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRipGMAN. 471 

observed, in passing, that this latter instance shows, in a strik- 
ing manner, how different tribes view or perceive the same 
phonetic phenomenon (hear the sound of the drum) differently, 
according to the different genius of the nation ; yet all may 
be equally correct in their own way. All persons who have 
been inmates of hospitals, soon after a battle in which different 
nations have fought, know how much even the inverbal utter- 
ances of pain differ according to the different genius of the . 
languages. 

Out of the second class, or purely imitative words, arises 
another very large one. It consists of those words which, so 
far as their sound goes, are derived from onomatopies, but 
have come to mean something which is only occasionally ac- 
companied by the originally imitated sound, or is not so any 
longer at all. A pat of butter means a small piece of butter 
divided from the main body and shaped by the flat instrument 
which in doing so produced the sound pat. The English word 
grumbling, which originally indicated the physical sound of 
grumbling, now frequently means the mental act of petty dis- 
satisfaction. A man may psychologically grumble in a phonet- 
ically clear voice. To the same class belong the French 
gronder, the German kratzen (to scratch, and pronounced krat- 
sen), the Greek xpdoj } from which is derived ypa<pstv f to grave, 
to engrave, and, ultimately to write, as if we used scratching 
for writing ; and, by a farther extension of the meaning, for 
composing, corresponding, and other significations, which the 
expansive word writing has received in the course of time. 
The German word Schmecken (of the same root with the Eng- 
lish to smack), which now means to taste, both as an active 
and a neuter verb, is here in point. It is derived from the 
sound which is produced by a person eagerly tasting some 



as din had been used by others before him, and as eiapopeia has been used by the 
Germans as a substantive. What are the Latin clangor, clamor, the German 
Klang, but words of this sort ? We might imagine a Hudibrastic writer using the 
expression, " They rub-a-dubbed it all abottt." No dictionary, however, in my 
possession, has rub-a-dub; by and by the lexicographer will admit this, as yet, 
half-wild word. 



472 . ESSA VS. 

substance — an action expressed by the French claquer, and 
the English smacking ; the latter of which also signifies to 
savor of something. For, the active and the passive, the 
cause and the effect, the state of a thing and the action result- 
ing from it, the perceiving and the causing of the perception, 
are ideas constantly passing over into one another in the 
human mind, and produce corresponding results in language. 1 
But the German word extends its meaning still farther, for 
Geschmack is the term for taste, in all its meanings, as if the 
English smacking were used for the sense of taste and the 
cultivated sesthetical perception and judgment, or as if the 
French used claquement for their word gout, in the fine arts, 
though the very words gout and gouter are derived from the 
Latin gustus, which, with its guttural sound, belongs likewise 
to the present class. It was, originally, an imitation of the 
sound produced by the act of swallowing, or the reversed 
sound of gulping (also a word to be mentioned here). Smack- 
ing is doubtless an onomatopy of a sound produced by the 
the lips ; but the word once produced, is used differently. I 
read this sentence in an English writer : " Napoleon used to 
delight his soldiers by smacking their faces." The negroes of 
the Carolina midland country use the word ratching for licking 
when speaking of cattle. Chattering when applied to the teeth 
is an onomatopy, but when it designates rapid and unmeaning 
talk, as in chatterbox, it belongs to our present class. Was 
not rolling originally an onomatopy, like rumbling? The 
German plump, now meaning clumsy, was suggested by the 
sound which the fall of a heavy and ujielastic body produces. 
The Greek pneuma, meaning mind, but originally breath, is 
derived from the sound of breathing forth. The Chinese word 
gong means the instrument which produces the sound gong. 
The English sly means cunning, but is derived from the root 



* One of the most striking instances is our " I am told" for " It has been told 
to me;" as if the Latin narror (they say of me) were used for "they tell me;" 
or as if the English " I am reported" did not mean " It is reported of me," but 
"It has been reported to me." He is a good shot, for a good shooter; it is 
grateful to me, for the thing is grateful, i.e., full of gratification, to me. 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 473 

of the word sliding, which, like the German schlupfen, is an 
imitation of the sound made by nimble bodies moving quickly 
on smooth surfaces. To clip, now meaning to cut off the 
tender ends of bodies, is derived from the noise made by the 
act of clipping. So is the English word to nip derived from 
a sound. In German nippen means to sip; both are, originally, 
of phonetic imitation. 

The following is one of the most striking and interesting 
instances of words belonging to this class : x 

The Latin vivere and the Greek ficouv are of the same root 
with the Gothic quiujan, which, etymologically, is the same with 
our weave, that is, to move to and fro, as the German weben 
actually means to weave, and to move as a living body or enti- 
ty — a sense which move has in the great passage of the Bible : 
In him we live and move and have our being. The German 
is " In ihm leben itnd weben und sind wir" Of the Gothic 
quiujan was formed our quick, which means both living and 
rapid, for the ideas of life and motion are closely united, so 
much so that we cannot imagine unalterable sameness without 
the idea of death, or lifelessness ; while quivering has the mean- 
ing of trembling motion. But this original root is probably the 
same which we find in live, the German Leben; and these 
words originally mean to utter a loud noise, to cry. They are 
etymologically the same with the Low-German Leuen, the 
English to low. Hence the German Leu and Lowe, and the 
Latin Leo, for lion, that is the roarer. To low is a clear imita- 
tion of the sound, while the idea of tone, of utterance, is as 
closely connected with that of life as the idea of motion. 
Indeed, wherever life surrounds us we see motion and hear 
sounds — be it utterance or noise caused by motion. It 
is not maintained that men reflected on this close connection, 
but a noise, a cry, an utterance naturally suggested the idea 
of life, and the word or verbal sound indicating the one was 
necessarily taken for the other; as an anxious father, doubting 



1 The following etymological statements, like many other passages, require re- 
vision, but are left as the author wrote them, — for the object of this reprint is not to 
give the most recent philological views, but to reproduce Dr. Lieber's work. — G. 



474 ESSA ra- 

the life of a new-born infant, will exultingly exclaim, It cries ! 
meaning it lives. The Hebrew Lev, for heart, because it pul- 
sates, moves, or lives, probably descends from the same root. 
It is not useless to remark here that, in common German par- 
lance, the word Leben (life) has to this day the meaning of 
uproar or noise. Many a German schoolmaster says, admon- 
ishingly, to his pupils : " Boys, do not make so much life" 
when he suddenly breaks in upon them in the midst of youthful 
tumult. We have, then, here again a word which is originally 
an imitation or a sound evoked by sound, but which gradually 
comes to designate various, very different and vast ideas. 
Heightened vitality produces and delights in noise ; the skip- 
ping filly neighs, and celebrations of half-cultured people con- 
sist in making noise. The modern Greeks, the Chinese, the 
Romans when Lent is at an end show it, as our " screaming with 
delight" does. Laura was very excited and uttered many noises 
when she enjoyed rain in the early epoch of her education. 

I have given a sufficient number of instances to illustrate 
this class of words. Whoever will direct his attention to it 
will no doubt be as much surprised as the writer has been, at 
the immense number of words reducible to this class. The 
onomatopy stands in a similar relation to human speech with 
that in which picture-writing stands to alphabetic writing. 

Laura, of course, could not attain to these classes of desig- 
nating sounds, because she could not even attain to those 
whence they are derived. 

A division of words to which we may naturally pass over 
from the last, comprehends those which are produced by the 
activity of an organ of speech, and thus give the name to 
that organ. When we think of any organ or part of ours 
capable of movement, with great liveliness or distinctness, it 
will be symphenominally set in motion, as we point to those 
that cannot be moved, and if that organ is an organ of speech 
its movement implies sound. The German Gurgel, for throat, 
with which our gargling is connected, the word Lip, the 
Latin Os for mouth, are words of this division. Their 
number must be necessarily small. 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 475 

Under the fifth class of words may be comprehended those 
which have never designated a sound, but whose sound, 
nevertheless, stands in a direct psychological connection with 
the object to be designated, or the idea to be expressed — as 
much so as interjections do. There is, indeed, a close affinity 
between the two. The words of this class are of a symphe- 
nomenal origin, and, for this reason, are easily understood when 
first uttered ; almost as much so as the mere cry of pain or joy. 
These peculiar words always form a most enlivening and 
spirited part of human speech ; I mean such as the English 
Flash. Every one feels at once that there is an affinity 
between the sound flash and the impression which sudden, 
vivid, and passing light produces upon our visual organ. The 
high sound, we might also say the brightness of the sound a, 
as it is pronounced in this word; the impression which the 
sound sh, at the end of the word, produces in this case, re- 
minding us of splash and dash ; the quickness expressed by 
the sound of fl t associated, as it is in our minds, with the 
words fleet, flicker , fly , flee , flow, flare, flake, flutter, always in- 
dicating motion — all these contribute to make the word Flash 
one which accurately paints with sounds (I cannot otherwise 
express it) the flashing light. Flash is derived from the same 
root from which our blaze, and the German blass (pale), which 
in Low-German means a red-glowing light (Nord-Bluse, 
Aurora Borealis), are derived. Bl changes early into fl, as we 
see in the German Blick and the Saxon flicker? 

1 The meanings of these two words stand in the same relation in which the 
English to look, active (to perceive), and to look, passive (to be seen, i.e., to ap- 
pear), stand. Indeed, the German smelters call the brief, bright appearance of 
silver when in the highest state of fusion der Blick. So does sight mean seeing, 
and a thing worthy to be looked at. 

Many readers may not be aware that our words bliss and blessing come from 
the same roots from which Blitz and flash are derived. Yet all of them come 
from the root that passes through the Teutonic languages, meaning light, an idea 
closely connected with shining, and this with color. To blush, in Dutch blozen, 
and to flush ; blilse, in Hamburg for lighthouse ; blaze on the forehead of a horse, 
bliss, to bless (to shine upon), blossom, bloom, with many more, are all referable 
to the same root and to the same phenomenon, of a combined psychologic and 
phonetical character. 



476 ESS A vs. 

How close the affinity of impressions is made by sound and 
light, and, indeed, by many other causes, appears clearly from 
the fact that the same root has often produced in one language 
a word designating a phenomenon of sound, and in a cognate 
language a term for a phenomenon perceived by the eye. 
We have in English to Titter, and in German Zittern, both 
derived from the same root. Every etymologist well knows 
that T t Z, and S frequently pass over into one another. But 
the German word Zittern means to tremble, while the English 
Tittering means to laugh in an under-tone, with a tremulous 
voice. There is a close affinity between the two phenomena, 
which is indicated by the fact that the expression just used of 
tremulous voice is intelligible and legitimate. 1 



1 This is not a confusion of ideas, as little as there was confusion in the mind 
of the blind man, who was asked how he imagined, from all he had heard, red 
color, when he answered : " Like a trumpet sound for the eye ;" or as there is 
confusion in the poet's mind when he boldly transposes words which belong to 
one sensuous sphere to another ; Dante speaks of a silent sun — that is, of a sun 
not shining. In this poetic temerity lies often Shakspeare's greatest beauty and 
Milton's highest sublimity. If this transposition were not intelligible, human 
speech would hardly be possible ; and if the mind did not perceive things and 
evolve thoughts in its oneness, they would not be intelligible. Expressions such 
as space of time, strong sound, cold or warm coloring, sweet voice, waving music, 
crying red, a clear tone, a heavy sound (and I have read, even, " an acrid sound"), 
high-minded, sharp taste, a flat fellow, an itching desire, douleur sourde, and a 
thousand others, would convey no ideas. The whole meaning of the metaphor 
and the trope must be explained upon the same ground. There is but one sen- 
sorium where all sensations centre, no matter which sense may have been the 
channel of perception, and whence all the urgency to breathe out the word pro- 
ceeds. A most curious instance of this transposition from one sensuous sphere 
to another was once afforded me by a little peasant boy in Thuringia. He said 
to me : "Dear sir, buy this nosegay; the violets taste very loud" — meaning they 
smell very strong. Yet this double transposition is perfectly intelligible, nor was 
it for the boy a transposition. The expression proceeded entire from one indivis- 
ible mind, and radiated, as it were, into different spheres of perceptible objects 
of the world without. Schmecken (to taste) is the common Thuringian word for 
smelling; the boy had gone a step farther. Charles Maria von Weber says, in 
his published works : " I will not deny it in the least that everything within me 
must accommodate itself to musical forms. The view of a landscape is to me the 
performance of a composition." (See his Posthumous Works, Leipsic, 1828, vol. 
ii. p. 26.) Here the composer expresses on a large psychological scale the pro- 
cess which effected the apparent confusion in the expression of the Thuringian 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 477 

The Greek Lampas, the German Bltiz, the Latin Clams, 
seem to me to belong to this class; so the English Whirl, if 
it does not belong to those words which originally have actu- 
ally indicated a sound, as the German Schwirren, which is of 
the same root, but means a sound similar to the word itself, 
seems almost to prove. Most original words designating 
phenomena of light belong to this class. 

Properly speaking, the origin of these words must be 
referred to the first class — the primitive ejaculations and 
the interjections resulting from them, and so far we find 



child. Everything proceeds from the oneness of the soul; everything converges 
to the one undivided consciousness of the individual. When, many years ago, 
I lived with Niebuhr at Rome, I had the happiness of being acquainted with 
Thorwaldsen. I could not help observing that, when I was walking up and 
down, conversing with that greatest of modern sculptors, in his studio, so soon as 
he became deeply interested in a subject, no matter what it was — religion, pa- 
triotism, history — the thumb of his right hand, that finger which impresses the 
sculptor's immortal conceptions on the yielding clay, would symphenominally 
move with the otherwise clinched hand, as if it pressed and were drawing deep 
outlines in a plastic substance before him, and thus were carving his thoughts in 
the air. The more intensely he thought and felt, or the more attentive he became 
to what I said, the more marked would likewise be the modelling and pressing 
and shaping in the air. I could clearly perceive that the thoughts he uttered 
fashioned themselves, in his sculptural mind, into forms and sharp contours for 
his inner eye. I shall never forget with what a carving sweep of that projecting 
thumb he once accompanied the words : " Yes, Luther was a hero." 

Our dreams go naturally still farther, and I well remember when I first learned 
chess-playing, how the history of many periods or scenes of Homer's epic ap- 
peared, in my dreams, resolved into a game of chess, and Achilles and Hector 
moved, not to save or destroy the city of Priam, but to cry victory in the Ilian or 
Hellenic shout of checkmate. Mr. Thackeray, in Pendennis, makes Foker, a 
fast youth of the town, say that the shirts were too " loud" in pattern. The word 
loud is in brackets, and seems to be a cant term of the London bucks at present. 
And why not ? It is as good as crying red ; nor can a term equally convenient 
be substituted. 

As striking an instance of transmutation as Dante's silent sun is the French 
term lanterne sourde, a deaf lantern, for which we only say a blind lantern. 
The Germans call a walled-up window, a blind window, and we speak of blind 
ditches, for covered ditches. A deaf lantern (which the dictionary of the French 
Academy gives) is on a par with a loud-tasting bouquet. Mr. Mayhew, in his Lon- 
don Labor and Poor, tells us of a blind woman, who with touching and poetic 
simplicity would say, When I became dark, or, We dark people. 



478 ESSA YS. 

them in the case of Laura; but we cannot expect to hear 
them from her lips as actual words, purposely and logically 
uttered, in order to convey distinct ideas, for the reasons of 
which we have already spoken, nor can we expect in her those 
ejaculations, which are known to us only as ejaculated with 
intention to produce a certain effect. There is no word which 
has stretched its ramifications into more different spheres of 
meaning and grammatical formations, as the word stare, stand, 
with the long catalogue of words from state to stable, staple, 
statute. A glance at'a Latin and English etymological diction- 
ary will show what a migration has taken place from the 
mother-word sto, which had migrated itself from the Sanscrit 
sta, that is, from the root st. But is not st the ejaculation for 
arresting attention, for stopping ? It is to this day the inter- 
jection by which we command silence, and by which the 
American waiters arrest each other's attention at the large 
table-d'hotes. 

There ought to be mentioned, in connection with this 
class, those curious alliterations which have acquired a very 
distinct meaning, and are, consequently, universally under- 
stood, but are derived from no ordinary words ; or, if they 
are so, use is made of the original words for their exclusively 
phonetic impression upon the ear, rather than for the mean- 
ing conveyed by them ; or, lastly, the alliteration consists of 
syllables without any separate meaning of their own, added 
to existing words. Some of these alliterations and rhymes 
are purely imitative, as the French din-don, ping-pang, the 
German klip-klap. Others have a symphenomenal connection 
with the idea they express ; in English, for instance, fiddle- 
faddle, rip-rap, slip-slop, hodge-podge, namby-pamby, tit for 
tat, spic and span, hum-drum, higgledy-piggledy, and zig-zag. 1 



1 When the wife of Sir Thomas More exhorted him, in prison, to yield to Henry 
VIII., she replied to one of his noblest observations, " Tilly-valle, tilly-valle;" 
which Sir James Mackintosh, in his Life of that great man, calls " an exclamation 
of contempt, of which the origin or meaning cannot now be ascertained." The 
meaning seems plain ; it is obviously the same with " fiddle-faddle," which means, 
" You talk stuff to no purpose ; good enough on other occasions, but worth no- 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 479 

In others, as indicated before, a symphenomenal sound is 
added, to a word, as chit-chat, see-saw, tit-bit, clap-trap, 
the German misch-masch, schnick-schnack, holter-polter, the 
French pele-mele. Others, again, seem to remind us of an 
original word, or actually do so, but have relapsed into a 
symphenomenal state, painting, as I said before, with sounds 
the idea within us, as the English nilly-willy (in which the 
Latin nolens volens, and the English will, have curiously re- 
lapsed into a primitive symphenomenal state), flibberdy- 
gibberdy, the American teeter-tawter (the English tiller-toller), 
hurly-burly, and a great many others. The German Hocus- 
pocus — an irreverent corruption of Hoc est corpus — belongs to 
this class. The English locofoco is said to be a farther cor- 
ruption of these words. The American vulgar noun slang- 
wangher, for a boisterous and arrogant fellow talking loudly 
and rudely in private or public, belongs to this class. 1 



thing on this." And as to the origin, it is purely symphenomenal ; the sounds paint 
the impatient censure and low esteem in which the remark to which they apply 
was held by the worldly wife. The sounds i and a are taken, as generally pre- 
vailing in expressions of this, or a similar sort, in the English and other modern 
languages. A noble member of the house of commons, in the late debates on 
the admission of Mr. Rothschild, protested " against any farther shilly-shallying." 
He made a verb of the exclamation shilly-shally , which is quite as intelligible as 
Lady More's tilly-valle, tilly-valle. Shakspeare has " Tilly-fally, Sir John" 
(Second Part of Henry IV., Act 2, Scene 4), and " Tilly-vally, lady" (Twelfth 
Night, Act ii., Scene 3). Theodore Hook calls Seltzer water " wimbly-wambly 
stuff, enough to make a cat sick" (p. 213, Life, etc., of T. Hook). The vowels 
/ and A are constantly used in this connection. A witness against the priest 
Gothaud, when tried in December, 1850, stated that Gothaud, being intoxicated, 
had carried the bon dieu clopin-dopant. Cahin-caha is another French expression 
for a slow motion, not very direct. I find that of a coach it is said, elk debouche 
cahin-caha, and menages de province vont cahin-caha. 

1 There are in all modern languages, but especially, it seems, in the Teutonic 
tongues, certain names and adjectives used merely for the purpose of emphasis. 
Originally they signify something strong, fearful, awful ; and this general sense, 
without any reference to the particular object they designate, remains when they 
are used in the connection here spoken of. The vulgar Germans thus use the 
word murder, merely to express the idea of very much in the strongest manner. 
They would say, for instance, " I like him murder well ;" " I am murder busy." 
Thus we may hear in English, " He is a thundering fine fellow." The words 
devil, devilish, and d d, are used in this emphasizing manner. Several times 



4 8o ESSA YS. 

In the sixth class may be ranged those regular words which 
are formed by the addition of a syllable of symphenomenal 
character — syllables, as have been mentioned in the preceding 



I have even heard the latter word used in the superlative, and as a noun, namely, 

in this connection: "You may do your d dest, you will not succeed;" or, 

"He has done his d dest, but it's all useless;" that is, his very utmost. Now, 

in these cases, the weight of the words, for which alone they are used, is derived 
from their meaning, indeed; still, most of them are unconsciously used because 
their sounds correspond to their weighty meaning. A negro finding me writing 
to one of my sons, who was a great favorite of his, said : " You must send him my 
love : you must write him reg'lar tyrannical from me." Is not dead ahead very 
similar? The German word for murder, for instance, is Mord (pronounced mort, 
with a strongly shaking r), and the vulgar would not use it as a mere emphatic, 
did it not express the awful idea of murder by a heavy and strong sound. But 
•it is found that the vulgar, especially in Ireland and our western regions, form 
entirely new words in a similar sense. The final syllable acious, in the English 
language, has a peculiarly emphatic sound. The vulgar, therefore, frequently 
attach it to adjectives, merely to add a heavy weight to the word. I have thus 
heard the words gloriacious, curiacions, for "very glorious" and "very curious." 
The many Irish tales published in England contain numerous words of this sort. 
In one of them I lately found this expression : " You need not tossicate thus your 
head," for, you need not thus violently toss your head. Mr. Mayhew — I think 
I am not mistaken — gives farricaronzing as a London " cadger word," and every 
American has heard twisticated. A reverend gentleman lately told us at a public 
dinner of the character given to a certain Connecticut deacon by his neighbor, 
to this effect : " He is a very good man God-ward, but man-ward he is a kind of 
twisticated." A remarkable slang word of this sort is the adjective bodyacious, 
vulgarly used in the South, and meaning total, root and branch; for instance: 
" The hogs have broken into my garden, and destroyed it bodyaciously." Here 
the termination acious is made use of merely for its phonetic value, or weight; 
while the word body probably suggested the idea of totally — the entire body; for 
I have found, in an English book, "they tumbled him bodily into the canoe." 
The slang of the vulgar is interesting to the philosopher; because, in the unedu- 
cated, if they are of a sprightly mind, the same native, formative powers are at 
work, which are observed in the earliest tribes and in children. I think it is 
Lessiug who, for a similar reason, says that intoxicated people sometimes invent 
most characteristic words. The state of intoxication reduces the individual to a 
state of untrammelled savageness, in which the impulsive power of the mind, as 
far as it goes in that state of mental reduction, resumes a proportionate degree of 
original, formative vigor, unconcerned about that which is already existing and 
acknowledged. 

I cannot forbear relating here a droll anecdote connected with the German 
word for murder in the sense which has been indicated above. Soon after the 
war against Napoleon, in the year 1815, the Prussian government thought it 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 481 

paragraph, to some existing word. The German has the 
word Bitten (to pray, i.e. of man, not of God) ; of this he 
forms the frequentative Betteln, to beg, that is repeatedly- 
praying, in a small way, for a small gift. It seems to be 
obvious that the affix In has the same symphenomenal affinity 
to the ideas of diminutiveness and repetition that flask has to 
sudden, bright, and passing light. The Italian affix accio, or 
one, the one expressing badness to contemptibleness, the other 
indicating amplification, seem to me of the same sort. Who- 
ever has heard an Italian using them, with his expressive 
enunciation, will at once understand their peculiar import. 
The Greek desiderative syllable etto is probably of a symphe- 
nomenal nature ; so are all diminutives which are not origi- 
nally independent, but now faded nouns. The intensive S of 
the Teutonic languages ought to be mentioned in this place. 

What has been observed of Laura with reference to the fifth 
class applies likewise to this set of words. 

In the seventh class, I would comprehend those words, 
which, in the advanced state of a language, express a quality 
which is the cause of an effect that is accompanied by the 
sound which has suggested the word — a natural transposition 
or extension of the meaning. The following may serve as 
an example : 

Mum is the English interjection for silence. How has it 
arisen? When we address erroneously a deaf-mute a*s a 
person able to hear and speak, and he desires to make us 



proper to institute prosecution against many persons who had fought for the 
country, on account of suspected liberalism. The writer of these pages, then a 
mere lad, was among them, and arrested on suspicion of having dabbled in lib- 
eral politics. All his papers were taken from him, and submitted to the searching 
eyes of the police. Among these papers was his journal, which contained, under 
Ihe head of one day, this passage — expressed, it is now owned, in somewhat too 
familiar a style even for soliloquy-r" All clay murder lazy." This grave line was 
marked with the serious red pencil, and the writer was repeatedly teazed with 
the question whether he had not meant that he had been negligent in imagining 
(and compassing) the death of persons who, according to his opinion, stood in 
the way of establishing a constitutional government in Prussia — lazy in murder- 
ous thoughts! The inquiring judge considered himself, no doubt, very sagacious. 
Vol. I. — 31 



482 ESSA VS. 

understand that he cannot speak, he compresses his lips and 
breathes strongly against the palate (so decidedly does thought 
or feeling animate the organs of respiration, and so phonetic 
or sound-seeking is the nature of man). This produces a 
humming sound — um, or mum. The same is observed if 
children play the mute, or if the actor in the vaudeville wishes 
to impress others that he is mute, or ought to be silent. 
Um is the root of the word Dumb ; but in German Dumm 
now means stupid, that is, the cause of silence ; as we, also, 
say for a dull person, 1 " He has little to say for himself." In 
ancient German poetry we find the expression, Die Alte?i unci 
die Dummen ; literally, the old ones and the stupid, and really 
meaning the old ones and the young, because the young 
ought to be silent, or have nothing important to say. This 
agrees with the views of all early nations, who, on the one 
hand, always connect the idea of old with wisdom and author- 
ity, and on the other, that of youth with the want of these 
qualities. We have changed all this, and have " young men's 
parties," "young England," "young France." But such was 
the view of those who made of the terms for old man, father, 
etc., the names of their highest offices — as yspw t senator, papa, 
abbot. 

These words, as a matter of course, cannot be expected to 
belong to Laura. 

As the eighth class of words, we may mention those which 
are derived from sounds which stand in an incidental, though 
natural, connection with the objects which they designate, and 
which are not therefore of a strictly symphenomenal nature. 
The simplest of all vowel sounds is A (pronounced as in 
Italian), or Ha; for it is the mere breathing forth from a 
mouth opened before the breathing began. If the mouth is 
closed again before the breathing wholly ceases, the sound Am 
is heard; if the breathing begins before the lips are parted, 



1 A mechanic of New Jersey said to me, when I asked him whether certain 
men would be able to make something not quite common for me, " No," he 
quickly replied, " they would be dumb about it." 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 483 

we have the sound Ma; if the breathing precedes and suc- 
ceeds the opening of the mouth, we have Mam. What 
wonder, then, that children articulate, at the earliest period, 
the sound Am, Ma ? What wonder that this sound is uttered 
so soon as mere animal crying gives way to articulation, and 
that the only want felt by the infant, that of nourishment, 
urges it, according to the general organization of all human 
beings, to breathe forth its desire in the sound Ma ? What 
wonder if this first articulate sound comes to be attached to 
the being who furnishes the nourishment, or the breast which 
yields it? Has not even the bleating of the lamb the sound 
of ma or maih in it? Whenever this sound of the lamb is 
imitated, it is done by the prolonged and tremulous sound of 
maih. What wonder, lastly, if the sound am or ma, once 
having come to signify the being that gave birth, is surrounded, 
by her affectionate care, with all the dearest associations of 
love and holy disregard of self? 

In almost all languages the word for the female breast, the 
mother or the nurse, is derived from this sound. The Latin 
mamma and mater, the Greek /id^/ia, the modern mama, the 
Hebrew Emm, the Persian and Hindoo Ma for breast, the 
Greek fjajr^p, our mother, the German Mutter and Amme (for 
nurse), the Gaelic mam, the Swedish mamma, the Albanian 
mam, the Wallachian mama, and innumerable others, are all 
in point. We meet with it again in the Polynesian languages, 
as the philological part of Captain Wilkes's Exploring Expe- 
dition shows. 

I make no doubt but that Laura, too, has breathed forth 
this elementary and sacred sound in her earliest infancy, but 
it could not ripen into a definite word. 

All other words are, probably, formed by composition, 
contraction, expansion, repeated transformation, and certain 
changes which gradually come to designate a general or pe- 
culiar relationship subsisting between certain ideas, or between 
the forms of words themselves in a purely grammatical point 
of view, the whole being affected by the peculiar formative 
spirit with which a tribe shapes its words, whether, for instance, 



484 ESSA YS ' 

it is analytical, whether monosyllabic, as with the Chinese, or 
holophrastic, as with the American Indians. Facile inventis 
addere. 

This peculiar formative spirit need not be primordial, but 
may develop itself at a comparatively late period. Indeed, we 
do not know that it ever is absolutely primordial ; certainly 
not in the sense in which some modern naturalists imagine it, 
when they designate the difference of languages as natural, 
necessary, and proceeding from the same causes as the dif- 
ferent songs of the birds — a view very unphilosophical and 
directly against facts easily observed. We have an instance in 
our own language. The tendency of the Saxon was not, I 
take it, toward monosyllabic formation, although it favored 
brevity compared to other German dialects ; yet such a ten- 
dency arose and aided in the formation of English proper — a 
tendency becoming more and more manifest down to Henry 
VIII. and later — a desire to truncate, to clip, and the conse- 
quent necessity to rely on juxtaposition for the grammatic 
value of words. As late as Henry VIII. en was added to the 
persons of the plural of verbs. The Low-German and Saxon 
were always briefer in their formations than the High-German. 
Still the Saxon was not monosyllabic, and showed no tendency 
of truncating. The English has thus not only become brief, 
but in some cases one might call it curt. 

While changes are going on with the words already formed, 
their meaning alters according to the endless association of 
ideas, real or imagined affinities, the gradual expansion of the 
mind, the constant generalization and abstraction, or a retro- 
gressive degeneracy, and many other causes, mental and 
physical. It will have been observed that I have spoken only 
of the origin of words and of their phonetic formation. The 
meaning which they acquire constitutes a different subject, 
which demands attention to all the laws of psychology, of the 
gradual progress of civilization, to the laws of intellectual and 
philological degeneracy (for this has its laws like all disinte- 
gration or corruption), to the changes of history, and, in short, 
to all the altering conditions and relations which take place 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 485 

within, under, and around man, individually and collectively, 
by tribes and nations, by concentration and tribal separation, 
by mixture, fusion, and by emigration — in politics, religion, 
the arts, and every advancement and debasement. 1 

In all inquiries into the origin of words and languages, we 
must remember this psychological fact of primary importance, 
that, in consequence of the force of the assimilation of ideas, 
the inquirer who sees a thing or institution in a defined and 
ordered state before him, is apt involuntarily to suppose a 
correspondingly definite and distinct origin from which it has 
sprung. Accordingly he seeks for this peculiar sort of origin, 
and is generally led into grave errors. When attention was 
first directed to the origin of governments, they existed 
already in a well-defined state, and forthwith an origin cor- 
responding in distinctness was sought for and imagined. 
People dreamed of governments voted into existence as laws 
are now made. Agriculture, when first it became a subject 



1 If, on the one hand, it is true that etymological inquiries may lead to very 
fanciful conclusions if they are not conducted with the utmost caution, it is no less 
true, on the other hand, that etymological connections may actually exist, which 
would appear as most extravagant could they not be proved ; and no word in its 
present state can fairly be assumed to prove that its origin is not owing to one of 
the enumerated causes. Who would believe that the Hindostanee words, used 
by the native soldiers in the British dominions of the East, Gourandile, Ordul- 
ram, and Tandellis, are the corruptions of the words grenadier, order arms, and 
stand at ease? Yet such is the case. Many words change, in one transforma- 
tion, their vowels, and in another their consonants, so that nothing of the original 
remains. The following is an instance : the Sard word for voice is Eoghe, de- 
rived from the Latin, vox, vocis, of which the Italian word voce is formed. The 
c constantly changes into^- (having first a slightly guttural sound), and v and b 
are equally related to each other, as every Spanish scholar well knows, so that 
at last the word boghe is formed. But in some parts of Sardinia the people pro- 
nounce this word very much like baghe ; so that we have baghe from vox. Who 
but the sifting scholar would believe that the words voice and baghe are derived 
from the same original word vox, which, again, may be derived from an original 
sound, consisting merely in a strong breathing forth of Ah, or Oh, for v and c are 
but hardened aspirates, or solidified breathings. We know the meaning of Mac 
in McAdam, but I. find that French writers use the word mac for the dirt peculiar 
to Macadamized roads in rainy weather. The word is floating at present in the 
newspaper region, but in time it will rise ; at least this has been the road of many 
a word. 



4 86 ESSA VS. 

of reflection, presented itself as a complicated system, far too 
wise to be supposed to have been invented by man — and its 
invention, was silently assumed. It was, therefore, ascribed to 
the gods, by the Chinese as well as by the Greeks. Even the 
invention of bread has been sought for in the inspiration of 
some benign deity. The art of writing especially, was re- 
ferred by the ancients to the inspiring gods, yet we know 
how our alphabetic writing originated. The origin of languages 
has naturally been exposed to the same error, and more so, 
perhaps, than any other subject. 1 

Although we can trace in the case of Laura words apper- 
taining to only a few of the enumerated classes, her vocal 
sounds are nevertheless interesting even in this respect. I 
shall proceed, then, to give as accurate an account of them as 
I am able to do, founded upon personal observation, whenever 
the nature of the case allowed it. Where this was impossible, 
my remarks are founded upon information obtained from 
persons who have been in daily intercourse with her for a 
long time. 

It has been stated that most of the sounds which are the 
symphenomena of Laura's emotions have been studiously 
repressed, because, being impulsive, they are more or less 
vehement. But sounds vehemently produced by organs over 
which the regulative power of vocal intercourse has no influ- 
ence, are necessarily disagreeable or repulsive to others. 2 



1 See the Lecture on the First Constituents of Civilization, alluded to before. 

2 The admirable organs of speech, and the definiteness of thought, which is 
accompanied by an urgency to name the thing or utter the idea, lead men to ar- 
ticulate sounds ; so much so, that articulation becomes natural to man, and will 
take place even where no definite thought exists and requires it. I knew a gen- 
tleman, bearing the name of one of our most distinguished men — both are now 
departed — who was in the habit of beginning every address of his, and every 
paragraph of speech, if I may use this expression, with the distinct word " Tit- 
noss." For instance, " Titnoss, how do you do, madame?" If he was some- 
what embarrassed he used to begin every sentence with " Titnoss." Upon 
inquiry, I found that originally he stammered a great deal; indeed, he was 
always liable to have his speech impeded by this unwelcome disturber. Now, 
titnoss is nothing more than the sound which the perturbed organs produced in 
a stammering person, before the tongue assumed its proper enunciating function, 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 487 

Laura, however, was educated for her own sake, and not as 
an experiment for the philosopher. Sounds which she produces 
for persons — and she has a sound for every individual in whom 
she takes a peculiar interest — are not subject to the same 
vehemence; indeed, they are not at all disagreeable. The 
question whether Laura has distinct sounds for those persons 
only whom she loves, but none for those she dislikes, is 
simply answered by the fact that never a being has been more 
exclusively surrounded by attentive solicitude than Laura. 

How these sounds for persons, or names, originate is very 
difficult to say. I was unable to discover any agreement 
between the sound — for instance, its strength or softness — and 
the character which Laura may ascribe to the individual, or 
with the peculiar influence which a person may have exercised 
over her. 1 This apparent want of agreement cannot be 
wholly ascribed to a want on her part of an appreciation of 
the difference of character. Laura knows the character of 
those who surround her very well indeed. She quickly per- 



viz., ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-s-s-s, gradually subjected, however, to the articulating process, 
until a regular word (titnoss) was formed. This word had no meaning, indeed ; 
at least no more meaning than the ach, ja, with which the Berlin people and 
Saxons begin almost every first sentence, or than the 6e of Homer ; but if the 
original unarticulated sound had arisen from any specific emotion, e.g., from 
fear, love, hatred, pleasure, or kindness, and if the utterer had been a barbarian, 
living with kindred, yet speechless, barbarians, it is clear that this sound — and, 
later, the articulated sound, titnoss — would have become a phonetic sign, a word 
in our sense of the term for that specific emotion, and titnoss would stand in the 
dictionary of that tribe as the noun, or verb, as the case might have been, for 
fear or fearing, love or loving, etc. There are many perfectly articulate sounds 
used in our language, which, nevertheless, have neither a distinct word-meaning, 
nor are interjections; for instance, the sounds which are added to some stanzas 
in singing, as la-le-ra-la, foll-de-doll, or Sterne's lilli-bullero. 

In the above case a human being was forced by his own organization to form an 
articulate bisyllable of a mere sound of embarrassment; while a Newfoundland 
dog, with a most definite idea, cannot rise to articulation. What an elemental 
difference ! 

1 I must refer the reader to the letter of Miss Wight, which I received when 
these sheets were passing through the press, and which will be found at the end. 
It will be seen that Laura actually does connect some of these sounds at least 
with the character of the persons whom they designate. 



488 ESSA YS. 

ceives whether a friend speaks to her with accustomed kind- 
ness, indifferently, or perhaps impatiently. For, as we readily 
perceive the temper of a person by his gentle intonation or 
hurried utterance, so is Laura perfectly able to feel any differ- 
ence in the manner of imprinting words in her listening hand. 
Once she said in my presence to a friend of hers, " You are 
very sleepy ; why don't you go to bed ?" and when asked 
how she knew it, she replied, " You speak so sleepy." The 
fact was, that the person really was tired, and printed her 
converse slowly in Laura's hand, as our utterance becomes 
symphenomenally heavy when we feel drowsy. One day 
Laura expressed a desire to visit me ; and when asked whether 
she liked to see me, she answered : " Yes, he speaks so funny" 
— imitating my slow and often incorrect finger-spelling. I 
was then learning her finger-alphabet, and used to spell as 
slowly and painfully as the urchin performs his first lessons in 
the primer. Now it is obvious that if Laura perceives single 
peculiarities, she likewise conceives the aggregate, especially 
as she is gifted with very keen perceptive powers. We have, 
indeed, her own sayings, which prove how well she appreciates 
those around her. But the reasons why there seems to be 
no natural agreement between her sounds and the persons 
designated, may be twofold. J^aura has no ears to guide the 
modulations of her own voice, or, in fact, to evoke the proper 
sounds ; and, which is perhaps the most important, Laura 
perceives that which to us is sound, as a common vibration 
of her organs only. It must be observed, also, that the 
loudest letters, for instance, a loud R (pronounced as in 
Italian), are not necessarily felt by the organs of speech as 
strongly as some guttural tones, which are far from resembling 
them in strength. Possibly, then, there may yet be the agree- 
ment of which we have spoken, according to Laura's own 
perceptions and impulses. One of her teachers told me that 
Laura once omitted to produce the accustomed sound indi- 
cating the person who related the incident, for a whole week; 
after which she uttered an entirely different name-sound, and 
said : " This is your name," which name the teacher retained 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 489 

at the time the account was given to me. It is clear that at 
the present advanced stage of Laura's education many causes 
which come into play when we make or give names must be 
active with her ; but how her mind came first to settle upon 
the precise sounds which she has given to certain individuals 
may never be discovered. 

I have given my view how the fact is to be accounted for 
that she has sounds for persons, and none or very few for 
things and actions. I think one more reason may be adduced, 
proper to be stated at this stage of our remarks. Every word 
whatever, except nouns proper, is the representative of an 
abstract idea, because it is generic, and the idea of a genus is 
an abstraction. This process of abstraction, accompanied by 
sounds, which must at all events have been in her very limited 
and laborious, was wholly stopped by giving her a full and 
developed, a ready-made language. It operated upon her 
native development of language as the superinduction of the 
Roman law foreclosed the further development of the German 
common law; or as the introduction of a fully-developed 
foreign architecture has cut short the native architecture of 
some countries which happened to be yet in the process of 
formation ; or as, indeed, the influx of the Latin language often 
operated in the Middle Ages. 

An individual, however, is something concrete, and his noun 
proper, of whatever sound this may consist, means the con- 
crete individual, and nothing else. The names of persons 
which were given to Laura were no sounds or representations 
of sounds, but spelled digital marks. There was, therefore, 
no forestalling possible by a ready-made language, and all the 
original formative impulses retained their primitive vigor. A 
name was given her, but she could freely invent another of her 
own kind parallel with the first ; or perhaps she had already 
given such a one. 

Laura has near sixty sounds for persons. 1 When her 



1 Here I must again refer to the letter of Miss Wight, at the end, from which 
it appears that she has forgotten many, and now uses but few. 



490 



ESS A VS. 



teacher asked her, at my suggestion, how many sounds she 
recollected, she produced at once twenty-seven. Three of her 
teachers, Dr. Howe included, stated to me that she had cer- 
tainly from fifty to sixty. 

It may possibly excite surprise that I do not speak with 
greater certainty. But it ought to be observed that these in- 
quiries must be carried on with some degree of caution, so as 
not to cultivate in Laura a feeling of vanity, from which this 
little personage is by no means entirely free. She is already 
aware that she has attracted much observation and inquiry ; 
and, being an object of uninterrupted solicitude, she might 
easily become selfish. 

She indicates persons by oral sounds, and by no others. 
She never attempts to designate individuals by the clapping 
of her hands or by stamping. The reason seems clear. These 
sounds would be intentional in their origin; and how could 
she know that by bringing her hands violently together she 
would produce a sign ? The uttered sounds were spontane- 
ous in their origin ; and finding that somehow or other they 
were perceived by others, they became signs or names. 

Sometimes she produces these phonetic names involuntarily, 
as I have mentioned an instance when she affectionately 
thought of a friend. So, whenever she meets unexpectedly 
an acquaintance, I found that she repeatedly uttered the sound 
for that person before she began to speak. It was the utter- 
ance of pleasurable recognition. When she perceives, by the 
jar produced by the peculiar step of a person entering the 
room, who it is, she utters the sound for that person. At 
other times, when she is in search of somebody, she will enter 
a room uttering the sound belonging to the person ; and re- 
ceiving no answering touch, will pass on. In this case the 
sound has become a complete word — that is, a sound to which 
a definite idea is attached, intentionally uttered to designate 
that idea. 

All the sounds of Laura now designating persons are mono- 
syllabic. Not one of the names thus bestowed by her consists 
of a composition of two syllables, each of which separately 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 491 

might designate another person. Nor does she use the same 
syllable differently uttered, in the Chinese manner, for different 
persons. But this monosyllabic name is repeated several 
times; for instance, Foo — Foo — Foo; or, Too — too — too. 
She has no name Foo-Too. All impulsive utterance is prob- 
ably at first monosyllabic, and the aid of the ear, as well as 
phonetic intercourse, may be necessary to connect different 
syllables in order to designate one idea. In the constant 
repetition, Laura resembles children and uncivilized tribes. 
Most of our nursery names for animals consist of repetitions 
of the same syllable, while the languages of savages abound 
in reduplications of the same sound. I observed the same 
when the different armies entered France and the soldiers of 
different nations came in frequent contact, so that a jargon 
was produced, intelligible, as far as it went, to all. In it repe- 
titions, too, were frequent. When the paucity of language 
furnishes the speaker with but one meagre word, the idea, so 
to express it, is longer than the word, and an unconscious desire 
exists to make up for the want by repetition. We see a some- 
what similar process in the orator, who repeats the same idea 
twice or three times in different words when the thought to be 
uttered is too pregnant to be despatched in one short sentence, 
which might indeed be sufficient in reading, but is not so for 
mere hearing ; or in dull men, who repeat the same thing over 
and over, because they lack the energy of finishing, and can- 
not detach themselves from a thought which has once got 
possession of their sluggish intellect. 

Reduplication enters at a later period into the grammar, as 
we all know. I do not speak so much of the reduplication 
of syllables (as in the Greek verb), but of entire words. The 
Chinese form the plural of any word by repeating it. Tree — 
Tree would mean trees. The Italian uses the repetition of 
adjectives to express a high degree; for instance, grande 
grande means very large ; staneo staneo, very tired. But it is 
particularly natural to the human mind to repeat when espe- 
cial attention is required to the word, and this is always done 
when persons have but very few words in their vocabulary. 



492 



ESS A VS. 



We observe a parallel phenomenon in the fact that repetition 
or a double dash is very common in abbreviations, such as 
MSS., $ (which arose out of D, with double middle stroke), £ 
(which is L for Libra, with a double line across), or ffo (the 
German for pound, and also derived from L for Libra, but with 
a. double longitudinal stroke, as ours in $). The reason is the 
same which causes us to use the oblique case for the nomina- 
tive of the pronoun when peculiar emphasis is desired ; as, It 
is me, for it is /. Every one feels that the oblique case is 
weightier (or has something reciprocal in it). Many lan- 
guages, such as the Greek and French, fairly adopt it. What 
the double stroke is for the eye, is the oblique case for the ear. 
Very few of Laura's syllables can be written with our in- 
adequate alphabet. This is natural. If missionaries among 
uncivilized tribes find the greatest difficulty in expressing 
words by alphabets which are even inadequate to their own 
languages — a difficulty of which the early christianizers of 
Germany complained — how much more unsuccessful must 
not be the attempt at writing many of Laura's unmodified 
and frequently inarticulate utterances. I think, however, I 
can say that the sounds of F, T, Pr, B, Ee (German i), and 

00 (French ou), are prevailing, together with the sibilant S. 
The sound L, I discovered in one semi-guttural tone only, 
which might be approached by writing Lull. I also observed 
the sound Pa — pa — pa (for one of her best female friends) ; 
Fif — fif — fif (for a very lovely friend of hers) ; Pig — pig — pig 
(for a female teacher of hers) ; and Ts — ts — ts (for Dr. Howe). 

1 have also frequently heard her utter a sound between F and 
T. When she did not like to be touched, for instance, by 
boys, who often did it in a. sportive mood, she would 
repeatedly utter F — generally in an equally sportive spirit; 
for Laura is very fond of a joke, and greatly enjoys good- 
natured teasing. 

Many of her sounds are gurgling, though not disagreeably 
so ; others consist of a chuckling, and in general I would say 
that the throat and the lips seem to be the organs which she 
chiefly uses. The tongue is often pressed against the palate, 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 493 

producing a full, round, yet dull sound, which I cannot 
write. Vowels are very little used, and if so, generally indis- 
tinctly. The clear sonorous vowel in speaking and singing 
requires the ear and long civilization. Savages do not make 
frequent use of fine open vowels ; and a bold singing from 
the chest succeeds to nasal singing at a very late period only. 
All Asiatics to this day sing in this twang-chant, and so do 
the modern Greeks. 

While I am writing these words, a tuneful mocking-bird is 
pouring out its melodious song before my window. Rich and 
strong and mellow as is the ever-varying music of this 
sprightliest of all songsters of the forest, compared to the 
feeble and untuned sounds which Laura utters in her isolated 
state, yet her sounds are symbols of far greater import. She, 
even without hearing her own sounds, and with the crudest 
organs of utterance, yet has risen to the great idea of the 
Word. She wills to designate by sound. In her a mind is 
struggling to manifest itself and to commune with mind, 
revealing a part of those elements which our Maker has 
ordained as the means to insure the development of humanity. 
The bird, with all its power of varied voice, remains forever 
in mental singleness ; Laura, in all her lasting darkness and 
stillness, and with that solitary thread which unites her with 
the world without — the sense of touch — still proves, in every 
movement of her mind and urgency of her soul, that she 
belongs to those beings who, each in a different indestructible 
individuality, are yet fashioned for a mutual life, for sacred 
reciprocal dependence and united efforts. 

Oliver Caswell, the blind deaf-mute at the same institution 
with Laura, utters but very few sounds. He has the same 
opportunities which she enjoys ; but, though of an amiable 
temper, he is not endowed with a sprightly mind. He has 
one distinct sound, which he always uses to attract attention. 
It might be translated by the French tiens\ or the English I say. 

Julia Brace, the blind deaf-mute at Hartford, in Connecticut, 
above forty years old, and to whom no idea of a word-language 
has ever been imparted, utters many disagreeable sounds, not 



494 E SSA VS. 

unlike those of some wild fowl. When she is pleased, without 
being excited, she produces a humming sound. 

Anne Temmermanns, whom I saw in the year 1844, at 
Bruges — she was then twenty-four years old — uttered some, 
not agreeable, sounds, but she has none for different persons 
or things. Her whole education is much inferior to that of 
Laura or Oliver Caswell. I am not aware that there is any- 
thing valuable on record regarding the vocal sounds which 
James Mitchell, the blind deaf-mute Scottish boy, may have 
been in the habit of uttering. 1 All these individuals were or 
are very different from Laura Bridgman, as well in natural 
endowments as in cultivation of mind and the developed state 
of the soul. I can never forget the contrast between the 
coarse and painful appearance of Anne Temmermanns and 
the intelligent Laura, as I have often seen her, seated by the 
side of a female friend, her left arm around the waist of her 
companion, and her right hand on the knee of the other, who 
was imprinting with rapidity in Laura's open hand what she 
was reading in a book before them. They thus represented 
the great achievement which Dr. Howe has gained over ap- 
palling difficulties, never overcome, and scarcely attempted 
to be overcome, by any one before him — the picture of a 
communion of minds in spite of the enduring night and 
deathlike silence which enwraps poor Laura — an example of 
the victories in store for a sincere love of our neighbor, com- 
bined with sagacity, patience, resolute will, and, what Locke 
calls, sound round-about common sense. 

When the whole of this paper had been written many 
months, I read in the eighteenth report to the trustees of the 
Perkins Institution for the Blind, Boston, 1850, that Laura 
" often says, in the fulness of her heart, ' I am so glad I have 
been created.' " This psalm of gratitude, poured forth by 



1 The most complete account of James Mitchell with which I am acquainted 
is in vol. vi. of Chambers's Miscellany, published at Edinburgh. For more 
cases of blind deaf-mutes, and of a man who became blind and deaf, in Paris, 
see Anna, ou l'Aveugle Sourde-Muette de PInstitut des Sourds-Muets de 
Bruges, par l'Abbe C. Carton, Gand, 1843. 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 495 

her whom we pity as the loneliest of mortals — this hymnus 
of rejoicing in the possession of life — expresses infinitely more 
strongly and loudly what Dr. Howe has done for her than 
any praise of others could do. 

The character of this paper does not permit us to pass 
from a scientific inquiry to moral reflections, which are forced 
upon us by this girl, grateful in her state, which appears to 
us one of overwhelming destitution ; and thus we conclude 
the whole, leaving it to others to enlarge upon this remarkable 
and great text furnished by Laura : "I am so glad I have 
been created." 

While the foregoing paper was passing through the press, 
the writer received a letter from the untiring and able female 
teacher of Laura, answering a number of questions which I 
had made free to put to her regarding her pupil's mind, dis- 
positions, and developments; and also one from Laura herself. 
The latter I mean to put here on record, as a remarkable 
document. Of the former I will give a very few extracts, in- 
teresting in reference to the subjects which have occupied us 
in this paper. Miss Wight writes to me : 

" Before learning language, Laura used many signs to make 
known her wants, and, as you know, for a long time gave to 
many of her friends names which in some way were associated 
in her mind with the variety of their characters. She pro- 
duces still the same sound for me that she made eight years ago, 
with this difference, that originally it was very soft and gentle; 
now it is louder and fuller, to correspond, as she says, with 
the change in myself. She no longer uses many of these 
names, and has forgotten a part of them. Mine she retains 
for its use" (calling, in the strict sense of the word, her teacher). 
" She uses gestures expressive of different emotions. When 
she is merry she often sings. When she says a humorous 
thing she is not satisfied if the person addressed does not 
laugh heartily. She often talks with herself, sometimes hold- 
ing long conversations, speaking with one hand and replying 
with the other. 



496 ESS A YS. 

" Laura is now in excellent health ; very good and very 
happy. Your letters give her much pleasure. When I read 
your last to her the color mounted to her cheek, she laughed, 
and clapped her hands." 

The letter gives an interesting account of Laura's aesthetical 
feeling, her sense of symmetry, her conscientiousness, her 
affection for her mother, her religious state, sense of property, 
desire " to see this beautiful world," her love of power and 
strong will, yet ready submission to what is shown to her to 
be right, her skill in calculation, and of other subjects, all 
highly instructive, but not in close connection with the sub- 
ject immediately in hand. It is to be hoped that a general 
account of Laura's education will not much longer be with- 
held from the public. 

I now shall give Laura's letter, word for word. There is 
not one word misspelled in it. Indeed, spelling is her whole 
language. Sound and its representation are not at eternal war 
in her mind as in all our school-boys, and in the minds of not 
a few who no longer wear the jacket. The reader must know 
that Laura writes her own letters, and does by no means dic- 
tate them. 

"Sunny Home, Aug. 15th, 1850. 

"My dear Dr. Lieber — I received your kindest letter with 
great pleasure last June in the P. M. I was very much inter- 
ested in your account of the mocking bird. One very rainy 
tue. [for Tuesday] a very kind gentleman sent me 2 canary 
birds which looked very pretty and cunning. One bird died 
last June. The other bird seemed very quiet as if he missed 
his companion so sadly. He comforted himself by looking 
the glass, for he thought that he saw his companion there and 
used to sing to her. but at last he flew through the window 
which was opened a very short way, and left his cage deso- 
late. A very kind friend promised me that he would send me 
a bird this week. I should be very glad to have you learn to 
talk with your fingers. 

" I am highly delighted at the thought of going to Hanover 
to visit my dear Mother in Sept. Tell my dear Mrs. Lieber 



THE VOCAL SOUNDS OF LAURA BRIDGMAN. 407 

that I have got a little new Sister. It has not received a name 
yet. My Mother writes that her babe resembles me very 
much. I am making a very nice white dress for the baby. 
I remember that Mrs. Lieber is very fond of children. 

" Next Thursday will be 5 years since Miss W. commenced 
teaching me. I should like to get much better acquainted 
with you. " Yours truly, 

" L. Bridgman." 

I also append to this memoir the following letter from 
Laura to Miss Dix. 

ei Sunny Home, August 21, 1850. 

" My Dear Friend, Miss Dix — I was very glad to receive 
a long letter from you the 7th of August. 

" I thank you most sincerely for the card which you sent to 
me. I am very glad to think of your very pleasant acquaint- 
ance with Miss Bremer. I trust that she will meet with very 
good and pleasant people at Cape May. I prize my book very 
highly which Miss B. presented me with. I have not heard 
it all. I admire Franziska and her bear and Serena very 
much. I approve of Miss Bremer's taking her sea bath. I 
hope that it will be of benefit to her health. I do not doubt 
that the members of Congress would do much for the blind 
and deaf and dumb if they thought how much happier they 
are when they are educated. 

" I grieve very much to inform you that my lovely teacher 
was compelled to give up teaching. She went home for the 
purpose of regaining her strength. She planned some very 
pleasant visits for me before she left the Institution. I was 
rather home-sick occasionally during Miss W's absence. She 
is much better now; I am very well and happy. 

" I hope that you will write a letter to me again. 

" I send my best love to you. 

"Yours, truly, 

" Laura Bridgman." 



Vol. I. — 32 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES, ESPE- 
CIALLY OF THE CLASSIC TONGUES/ 

A LETTER TO HON. ALBERT GALLATIN. 



My dear Sir, — When, a few years ago, I had the pleasure 
of rendering you some service in the pursuit of your ethno- 
graphic researches — a trivial service, indeed, for it consisted 



1 Originally printed in the Southern Literary Messenger for March, 1837. 
This postscript to the letter is given in the same magazine : 

"Columbia, S. C, March 15, 1837. 

" It was only to-day, my dear sir, that I received volume ii. of the Transac- 
tions and Collections of the American Antiquarian Society (Cambridge, Mass., 
1836), which you had the kindness of sending to me, and for which I beg you 
to accept my sincerest thanks. I have had but an hour's leisure to glance at your 
Synopsis of the Indian Tribes of North America, but even this hasty view has 
sufficed to make me regret that this full ethnographic account from your pen came 
to hand long after the MS. of my Remarks on Comparative Philology had been 
sent to a place at a great distance from my residence. It would be in vain, at 
present, to attempt adding to them some farther reflections founded upon your 
researches, or some more illustrations drawn from them. For myself, I expect 
much instruction from your Synopsis, and know that I express but the feelings 
of all who feel interested in the advancement of general philology, if I thank 
you most cordially for this scientific production, which would do great honor to 
a scholar, yet ' nel mezzo del camming and who had spent his life exclusively in 
the service of science, not like yourself in the busiest scenes of politics and war, 
of the financial cares of your country, and of high diplomacy, until at last you were 
allowed to make for a port, and there you found only the quiet of Roscoe. May 
we see yet many such proofs of your energy exerted so successfully, though in 
the evening of your life, to the honor of our country ! Once more, 

" My dear sir, most faithfully yours, 
"Francis Lieber. 

" To the Hon. Albert Gallatin." 

499 



500 



ESS A YS. 



in nothing more than making some translations and extracts 
from German manuscripts on Indian languages written by 
early missionaries to Pennsylvania — I communicated to you 
a few of my views on the origin of languages, which appeared 
to be not entirely void of interest to you. This fact was 
brought to my mind, when I happened to read an article on 
the study of classic languages in one of the late numbers of 
the Southern Literary Messenger ; it made me reflect on one 
of my favorite subjects, and, by a natural association of ideas, 
caused me to recollect my conversation with you. This is 
the reason why I have taken the liberty of inscribing this 
letter to you ; there is no intrinsic reason, I own, but why 
should I not be permitted to direct my communication as I 
have done, were it only as an acknowledgment of my esteem 
for your labors in the field of comparative philology ? 

In the remarks alluded to as being contained in the Southern 
Literary Messenger, and which are not favorable to the study 
of classic languages, as a branch of general education, nothing 
surprising will be found by any one who is acquainted with 
the objections which have been made from time to time, 
against the general study of Greek and Latin, ever since the 
modern languages arrived at independence ; by which I mean 
a settled character and a distinct literature of their own. There 
was but one assertion which I had not met with before, 
namely, that there exists in the United States a mania as to 
the idioms of classic antiquity. I confess experience has led 
me to believe the contrary. The utilitarian tendency has 
communicated itself most signally, I think, to our education, 
and it is a mistake but too common in our whole country, 
that the importance of a branch of education, and especially 
of school-education, depends upon the degree of its utility, by 
which, frequently, nothing more is understood than its appli- 
cability to the common concerns of life. Yet all individuals 
as well as nations, distinguished for mature reflection on edu- 
cation or experience in matters belonging to this important 
subject, are long agreed that the greatest possible develop- 
ment of the intellectual and moral powers forms the true aim 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES, 501 

of all education, that many subjects useful for practical life, are 
far from being conducive to this end, and that if this main 
object be obtained it is easy for the individual to apply him- 
self to the different specific branches required for each career 
of practical life ; nay, that this is the only safe way of obtain- 
ing in the most effectual and briefest manner these practical 
objects, and that it has long been found by manifold and re- 
peated experience that the introduction of too specific and 
practical branches of knowledge into common school educa- 
tion is nugatory in a high degree, effecting only loss of time. 
For while the mind is but little developed by them, that 
knowledge which is actually acquired in these practical 
branches is rarely of a kind that can be applied at a future 
period, without unlearning a considerable part. I appeal to 
all educators here and in any country whether they will not 
bear me out in this assertion ; nor would it be difficult in 
confirmation of my position to load this letter with quota- 
tions from all the first writers on education in Germany, France, 
and, I believe I am not mistaken if I say, from the most 
prominent English writers. I should have to mention many 
names of works and authors not generally known here, and 
thus give to my remarks the appearance of an essay or a dis- 
sertation, rather than of hints which only give some of my 
views, and which I desire to have read by many reflecting 
individuals, not by educators by profession only. I hope to 
offer a few original remarks or to present the subject in some 
new point of view, or I would not have attempted to write 
them down. But, it may be asked, is it really possible to say 
anything on the subject of the classical languages which has 
not been said before — on a topic which has been discussed 
by so many people, in so many countries, for so many years ? 
Antiquity, and with it its two most perfect idioms, forms a 
phenomenon of such magnitude, of such endless and varie- 
gated effects upon the most civilized race, that it is a subject 
of endless inquiry too. Will nature ever be an exhausted 
subject for the poet or the naturalist ? Still less antiquity, in 
which the most important object in the creation — man, has 



502 ESSA VS. 

developed himself in the greatest variety, in a high degree, 
in a most peculiar character, and under a combination of the 
rarest circumstances. The importance of the study of Greek 
and Latin in the present times is of a very different kind, 
indeed, from what it was when letters first revived. Whether 
it be still important at all we shall see in the sequel of these 
observations. Before I proceed, however, I must state, what 
in fact I have indicated already, that I shall offer a few remarks 
only. My chief object is to show on what I conceive the 
advantage of the study of the classics to rest. If this be 
well understood, it will be easier to settle how general this 
study ought to be. 

If I begin apparently far off from the subject before us, I 
hope it will finally be found that the observations were not 
irrelevant, nor can I believe that they will be considered with- 
out a degree of interest in themselves. 

Objects which strike our mind, and which it endeavors to 
name, to express, do not strike us in an analytic manner, that 
is to say, by their different qualities, effects, etc., but the im- 
pression they make on us, their image which our senses carry 
to the mind, is one and entire. If I see a young black horse, 
I do not receive the impressions of youth, blackness, and an 
animal belonging to the genus horse, separately, but the 
young black horse stands before me as one whole thing, and 
my mind receives but one whole impression. The natural 
consequence of this would be that the mind strives to express 
as one, entire whole, that which is, in fact, but one entire thing ; 
in other words, it would be natural to have one single word 
expressive of a black horse. But the impression made on 
the mind is not only a young black horse, it extended farther. 
My eyes saw and my mind thought, in one moment, at once 
and not successively, a young black horse standing on a turf 
near an oak-tree, his head bent so or so, one of his feet lifted 
in this or that way, his tail at rest or not, his ears pricked or 
not, looking towards the door of a neighboring house. This 
house, again, appeared to my eyes at once, with all the different 
marks which make it this single specific house of so many 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 503 

millions of houses in the world — in short, the young black 
horse makes the impression on my mind with the combination 
of all the countless marks which designate it as this specific in- 
dividual, in this specific situation. The mind receives an image, 
not a list of certain qualities in the shape of words, however 
rapid the process of the mind in transforming the entire im- 
pression, made by an entire thing, into separate impressions 
and in classifying them under certain general heads, may be 
with us, accustomed as we are from our earliest youth to an 
analytic language. 

It is evident that if we possessed the faculty of making a 
word for each specific • impression, therefore, to retain the 
above example, not only one word for a young black horse, 
but also for this specific young black horse in this specific 
situation, with these other specific marks, which together 
make it to my eyes and to my mind this very horse in this 
very moment, language would be at an end; for we would 
have a separate word for each thing in each particular mo- 
ment. Each word would signify but one single thing in one 
single situation at one single moment. But how can the in- 
dividual to whom we speak know that specific thing in that 
specific situation ? Language is the representation, by the 
combination of known things (words), of unknown things 
(the thoughts of him who speaks). In this case, however, 
the word would be as unknown as the thing, for the specific 
thing to be named being unknown, the word, which designates 
but this one specific thing, necessarily must be so likewise. 
Language would amount to o, for it would not designate any- 
thing. 

We have a word for sitting, another, the word squatting, for 
a peculiar kind of sitting; there might, likewise, very well 
exist a separate word for sitting with one leg over the other. 
This posture is common with all nations which use chairs, 
and it would thus designate a certain species of sitting. 
Suppose, however, that there were a specific word for every 
possible sitting posture, how would we know what the word 
meant? The specific case can exist but once, and if we do 



504 £ SSA YS - 

not select from it that which occurs in it, indeed, but which 
occurs in other cases likewise, we should be unable to convey 
any idea by our words. 

The mind then is obliged to resort to that process, which 
forms one-half of its whole activity — to analysis ; for the 
mind is forever, and without interruption as long as we are 
awake, occupied in two operations — analyzing and combining. 
We have to separate certain impressions from the total im- 
pression ; we have to dissect, which some minds will do skil- 
fully, some not; so will some whole tribes analyze more skil- 
fully, more successfully than others. In the above instance, 
we separate the idea of youth from the whole impression, that 
of black color, and that of a horse. As soon, however, as we 
have separated these impressions from the total impressions 
we have gained general or generic ideas — we generalize ; for 
not all horses which are black are young; not all young 
horses are black ; not all black, young animals are horses ; 
not all black animals are young, and not all young animals 
are black. We have gained general ideas, which we may 
differently combine to designate different other objects. The 
question now arises, where is this analysis and consequent 
generalization to stop ? We have the words to go, to walk, 
to march, to run, to ride, to drive, to waddle, etc. They 
signify general ideas, inasmuch as they do not signify who 
goes, walks, marches — where he goes, walks, marches, etc. 
On the other hand, they signify ideas which are capable of 
further analysis or dissection. They all mean movements 
from one place to another; to march, means to move from one 
place to another on foot, but foot itself is comparatively a 
very specific word, for it means the lower extremity of our 
body ; but extremity and body, again, can be brought under 
more general heads, for extremity is the most outer part of a 
longitudinally extended thing ; again, longitudinal and ex- 
tended can be brought under still more general heads. To be 
brief, it is clear that if we continue infinitely this process of 
analysis and generalization, we again reduce language to o. 
As in the first case of entire individualization we should have 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES, 505 

as many words as things, so we should find ourselves obliged in 
the second case to use momentarily all words of the language 
to designate one specific fact ; or, if we can imagine an infi- 
nite analysis and generalization, we should, as a matter of 
course, at last have but one single word. Where, then, are 
the limits of individualization and generalization ? The 
English have a distinct word for moving from one place to 
another on the back of a horse, or at least on the back of any 
animal — i.e., to ride. The French have no such specifying 
word, but have analyzed the idea of riding into two — i.e., se 
promener or alter and cheval. As I have said already, promener 
might have been dissolved further, and so cheval. Where, 
then, are we to stop ? The answer is, that different languages 
incline more to the one or to the other process, and the in- 
trinsic beauty of any idiom depends mainly on a just propor- 
tion of individualizing and generalized words, and upon its 
faculty of still continuing these processes. We shall resume 
this thread ; for the present we have to turn, once more, to 
the process of analysis or dissection. 

After an object has made an impression upon the mind, 
whole and entire, or after th« mind has received an image of 
something that exists, and which we shall call a phenomenon, 
taking the word in its true and comprehensive sense, it 
becomes necessary, as we have seen, that we should analyze 
the phenomenon, separate parts of it, and imagine (conse- 
quently name) them, separately. The dissection can be done 
in different ways. The phenomenon used as an instance above 
was a young black horse. It strikes the mind as one image 
when our eyes see it; we do not, be it repeated, see youth, 
blackness, and that which characterizes a horse from other 
animals, separately and disjunctively; nor are these ideas 
conveyed separately into our mind, where, being joined, they 
might produce the entire and undivided image and idea of a 
young black horse. When thus the image of a young black 
horse stands in our mind, we may separate the idea of black- 
ness, but leave those of youth and horse unanalyzed, and say : 
a black colt ; or we may separate the idea of youth, and leave 



5 o6 essa vs. 

those of blackness and horse together, as the Germans have a 
word for black horse, namely Rappe, so that they would say : 
ein junger Rappe (a young black horse). Thus the Germans 
have a distinct word for a white horse ; they have, however, 
also a word for colt, and may express the idea of the case 
before us precisely like the English ; a black colt. 

This dissecting of one image we best call the division of 
ideas — the most important subject, perhaps, in the whole prov- 
ince of the philosophy of languages. In the case I just used 
to illustrate this subject we have seen that different languages 
may proceed on a different division of ideas. They actually 
do so in most cases, and on this very point rests mainly the 
great advantage of studying foreign languages, as we shall see 
presently. I shall only add here a few more examples. 

We might say the young one of a female of the genus bos ; 
instead of which we say the calf of a cow. The English lan- 
guage has left the image of the calf and of the cow unanalyzed, 
and provides us with separate and distinct words for each. 
When we speak of a hare, we have no such specific words, 
because when the mind receives the image of a hare, it receives 
no striking sign along with it which would indicate whether 
the hare is male or female, young or old ; but when the phe- 
nomenon consists of an individual of the genus hog, the marks 
of the male are striking, and we have a word for it — boar. In 
many cases, however, previous division of ideas has provided 
the mind with generic words, by the combination of which a 
more specific case, or an individual phenomenon, can be clearly 
designated. The English language has the words old and 
man, and the combination of the two words designates ait old 
man. Yet other idioms have for this idea one distinct word, 
which, consequently, produces a more definite, compact, and 
vivid image in the mind of the hearer; for the one word is 
more energetic than the two, as in Latin senex, in German 
Gj'eis, in French vieillard ; and old woman is in German 
Greisin ; in French vieillarde. 

What is true with regard to the different division of ideas 
applied to phenomena of the visible world is applicable, like- 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 507 

wise, to the phenomena of the invisible world, or to both 
jointly ; it is, in fact, in a much higher degree so. Langue 
in French means to?igue. As the tongue, however, is a most 
important instrument in speaking, the idiom from which the 
French derived the word langue } designated by the same word 
what we express by tongue and language, as we, too, use the 
word tongue for language. On the other hand, that which our 
word language designates in many cases is expressed by a 
separate word in French, namely, langage. The German 
word Glaube signifies both that which is expressed by the 
English word faith and belief so that the Germans have but 
one word for that which to the English appeared as two dif- 
ferent ideas ; but the English word faith expresses often some- 
thing for which the German has a different word, namely, 
Treue y so that here the German idiom has two words for the 
English one. These interesting inquiries into the division of 
ideas, and the difference of this division in different languages, 
by which we discover a different affinity and affiliation of 
thoughts and notions, a different perception of things, and a 
consequently different ramification of ideas; in short, a dif- 
ferent logic of nations, may be continued without end. They 
show us frequently the most delicate affinities of thought and 
the acutest perception of the various phenomena within our- 
selves or without, uncover deficiencies, and disclose a blunt 
want of feeling or perception, where, previously, we had felt 
no want or suspected no barbarism, no looseness of expres- 
sion. I will give but a few more instances of a different 
division of ideas, that, perhaps, I may induce one or the other 
reader to approach by this means the wonderful workings of 
the human mind, and to lift the veil which covers the subtlest 
organizations of language, and with it the delicate operations 
of our intellect ; for language is the cast of the soul. 

A father is, or ought to be, a friend to his child ; friends 
feel, or ought to feel, for one another as tenderly as a father 
feels for his offspring ; in short, between a father and his son, 
and between two friends, exists, or ought to exist, the tie of 
good will. The inhabitants of Lord North's Island, therefore, 



508 ESSA VS. 

have but one word (or father and friend (Vocabulary, appended 
to Holden's Narrative of the Shipwreck on the Pelew Islands, 
Boston, 1836). This is a representation of ideas, or, as we, 
accustomed to designate father and friend by different words, 
would say, a connection of ideas, which is not much more 
surprising to a German than that the English or Americans, 
disliking the words lover and sweetheart, apply the "word friend 
to one who loves a girl with the view of marrying her; nor 
more surprising, perhaps, to an Englishman than that the un- 
educated Germans are in the constant habit of using the word 
friend instead of relation, though there is in German a distinct 
word for this idea. Friendship is thus used for all the relations 
in the aggregate. 

It cannot be denied that this unanalyzed idea of father and 
friend, with those barbarous and forlorn Pelew-Islanders, is 
touching ; while it will be admitted that it would be highly 
inconvenient with a tribe at all civilized, with whom the neces- 
sity of designating the two different relations frequently occurs. 
The law of inheritance alone would render this non-division 
of idea extremely inconvenient. Still, we are very apt to 
wonder how it is possible for nations to get along without 
certain words which in our own language designate quite dis- 
tinct and different things, altogether forgetting that there are 
numberless deficiencies and even barbarisms in our own lan- 
guages, with which we nevertheless contrive to get along, or 
which we have, perhaps, never felt before. That father and 
friend should be expressed with the Pelew-Islanders by the 
same word appears to a German indeed not so great a defi- 
ciency as that there are no separate words in the English, 
French, or any of the Western European idioms for the Ger- 
man MenscJi (homo, the genus) and Mann (vir, the male of the 
genus homo), as in Greek avOpw-oq and dvijp; so that man, 
homme, ombre, etc., designate both, man, inasmuch as he is 
contradistinguished to other animals, or to angels, and inas- 
much as he is contradistinguished to woman, or child; and it 
must be left to the connection of the words to express which 
of the two very different meanings — the one indicating the 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 509 

species, the other the sex — it is intended to convey ; and it is 
expressed by the connection in many or most cases with suffi- 
cient clearness. In fact, as long as one word designates two 
or three very different things or ideas little difficulty arises ; 
but when the same word designates ideas nearly related to 
each other, or different shades of the same generic idea, then 
there exists a danger of losing the true meaning. If a French- 
man pronounces -the sound of sans, which may mean without, 
sense, hundred, he feels (for sans, sens, cent, and sent are all 
pronounced in the same way), there is not much danger that 
he will be misunderstood ; but if he uses the word sentir, it 
may be difficult, in some cases, to decide at once whether he 
mean to feel or to smell. If a German uses the word sein, it 
will cause no difficulty to distinguish whether he means to be 
or his; but if he uses the word Farbe, it may occasion some 
doubt whether he means color or dye, though he might have 
used for the latter the word Farbestoff. The Germans have one 
word to designate all the brothers and sisters of an individual, 
namely, Geschwister, as the English language has the word 
parents to designate both mother and father. The Germans 
have likewise a word expressive of the idea of parents, but they 
have none corresponding to parent, which means the male or 
female parent indiscriminately. The Arabians have one word 
for death, another for noble death — i.e., the death on the 
battle-field or of pining love. We have no such word. We 
and most nations have a word for the idea of a child which 
has lost both parents or its father, an orphan, but the Swedes 
and Danes say fatherless child ; and an orphan asylum in 
Swedish is barnhus for faderlosa barn (child-house for father- 
less children). Mooatxoq signified in Greece one who practised 
the arts sacred to the muses, especially those which had con- 
nection with the sound ; hence, a musician, singer, poet, orator; 
and ixooovA-q signified not only music, poetry, rhetoric, but also 
all scientific and artistic accomplishment. We have no corre- 
sponding word, and could not, by any possibility, call up by 
any expression in the mind of our hearer all and the same 
which presented itself to the mind of a Greek when the com- 



510 ESSAYS. 

prehensive word /iougixt} was pronounced. They and we have 
started from different divisions of ideas. The corresponding 
English word to the German Geist is mind, to the German 
Seele is soul; still, though Geist and Seele mean in many cases 
precisely what the English express by mind and soul, they 
often mean things which cannot be expressed by mind or soul. 
We see, moreover, that the original division of the phenome- 
non internal man was different in German from what it is in 
English, for the Germans have, besides the words Geist and 
Seele, a third — Gemuth, which, so far from being superfluous, is 
one of the most indispensable words in the German idiom. 
This word may serve, also, as an instance how this branch of 
comparative philology often shows us deficiencies in our ver- 
nacular tongue, for as soon as the precise meaning of the 
German Gemuth has been understood the necessity of having 
it and the absolute want of a corresponding word, as well as of 
a corresponding division of ideas, will be felt. The number 
of instances might be indefinitely increased by simply looking 
at any dictionary. 

Words describe a circle within which lies their meaning, 
and there can hardly be found in the different languages any 
two such circles which cover precisely the same space. The 
circle of one word may cover half of the circle of the corre- 
sponding word in another language, or the greater part, while 
part of its own circle is covered by another word in the first 
language, yet again by this same word may be covered part 
of the circle of quite another word, with an infinite variety 
of affiliation of ideas. The French word souverainete signi- 
fies frequently what the English language expresses by sov- 
ereignty, but also something different, else the dictionary of the 
French Academy could not give, as an instance of the use of 
this word, the expression souverainete limitee. Limited sover- 
ainty has no sense in a language in which sovereignty signifies 
that plenitude of power which draws from its own source and 
from no other. No more striking instance of the diversity of 
space covered by corresponding words of different languages, 
and at the same time of a different division of ideas, can, per- 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 



5" 



haps, be given than the Latin res, the English thing, for which 
the Germans have two entirely distinct words, Sache and Ding, 
and the Greeks Tzpay^a and xP^i^y which do not in all cases 
correspond to the two German terms. 

If we take different groups of corresponding words in various 
languages (such as Force, Strength, Power, Might, Ability, 
Faculty, Opportunity, in English ; Vis, Potentia, Potestas, Fa- 
cultas, Imperium, in Latin ; 'pco^, aXxrj, i<T%o<;, <jOlvo<; y wa\iiq, 
xpdros, tf{a, and the many words which express opportunity and 
occasion in Greek ; Gewalt, Starke, Kraft, Macht, Herrschaft, 
Obergewalt, Zwang, Gelcgenheit, in German), two things be- 
come apparent at once : first, that it is impossible for the stu- 
dent, who observes for the first time these various groups, to 
penetrate their true meaning and correspondence with each 
other without deriving much benefit from it for the discerning 
faculty of his mind ; secondly, that if his vernacular tongue is 
English, for instance, he must be led to perceive entirely new 
divisions of ideas, becomes, in fact, acquainted with new ideas 
for which some of the other idioms have 1 distinct words, his 
own, however, not — ideas, therefore, which never represented 
themselves to his mind. 

This difference of the division of ideas is greater the more 
independently of each other two languages have developed 
themselves — a circumstance still more increased by the fact 
that the words of all original languages designating phenom- 
ena of the internal world (intellectual phenomena), or abstract 
ideas, are, if not compounds, faded metaphors. Man is struck 
first by the sensual world ; his senses must give him notions. 
At a later period he applies the words thus gained in a 
thousand different ways to invisible phenomena or abstract 
ideas. These metaphors carry of course certain associations 
along with them, and retain certain affiliations, which, in fact, 
coincides again with the different division of ideas. 

From what I have stated so far I intend now to draw some 
conclusions. 

It is this different division of ideas which renders a good 
translation of a work, transcending at all the limits of a bare 



512 



ESS A YS. 



statement of facts, so difficult. Had we words in one language 
which corresponded precisely to other words in another, no- 
thing could be easier than translating ; for no one would con- 
sider it a difficult task to learn a grammar and acquire an 
extensive vocabulary. It is this which renders the task of a 
lexicographer an extremely difficult one, and a labor which 
can be solved but by a truly philosophic mind. The more 
the two languages stand apart, the farther they are removed 
from each other by their origin and development, the greater 
the difficulty. Thus is a truly philosophic mind required to 
write a dictionary of an ancient language in a modern one ; 
thus it is far more difficult to write a German dictionary for 
Frenchmen than an Italian; or to translate German into 
French, than Italian. 

It is this different division of ideas which renders the study 
of foreign languages so salutary to our mind. We enter into 
a new logic, we gain from the point of view of a foreign lan- 
guage only, a perfectly clear perception of our vernacular 
tongue ; we become better acquainted with the true meaning 
of certain ideas, and we sharpen and point our judgment and 
the discriminating power of our mind by entering into the 
new division of ideas and inquiring into the precise extent 
covered by one or the other word. And all this is effected 
in a higher degree the more distant the studied language is in 
structure and origin from our own; so that an Englishman 
will derive vastly more philosophical benefit from studying 
German or Greek than from the study of French. There is 
a deep meaning in the saying of Charles V., that we become 
new men as often as we learn a new language. 

It is for this reason that the study of foreign poets becomes 
so necessary; for the poets use purposely the words with their 
various associations of ideas, in order to say much by few 
words, to call up feelings, reminiscences, ideas, with the wand 
of one word in the mind of the hearer or reader. On the 
other hand it is equally necessary to study the philosophic 
works of foreign literature, because the philosopher has to 
define distinctly and acutely. And hence we see the division 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 513 

of ideas of a foreign language with greater perspicuity. 
Thirdly, it is necessary to acquaint ourselves with translations 
of works in our own language into foreign idioms, because 
by them, too, we see how the foreign translator has been 
obliged to contrive by a variety of means to give with his 
words, founded upon a different division of ideas, the true 
meaning of our mother tongue. 

It is the different division of ideas in the different idioms 
which affords us so great a pleasure in studying a foreign 
tongue, for we discover entirely new manifestations of the 
human mind. This pleasure is greatly enhanced when we 
succeed, at last, in making the foreign idiom our own, when 
we can speak it, write it, think it. It is a true victory of the 
human mind. Hence, too, the great attraction of the study 
of such languages as the Greek, or Sanskrit. 

Hence, finally, the fact that some languages are more fit for 
one or the other purpose, one for description, another for lyric 
poetry, another for the intercourse of men, one for metaphysics, 
another for politics, another still for disquisitions of a scientific 
kind, and still another for commerce or technological terms. 

I have shown the great advantage to be derived -from the 
study of foreign languages, and that the advantage increases 
with the essential and original difference of the foreign tongue 
from our own. It is an advantage which cannot be supplied 
by any other study, for it has a peculiar and distinct character 
of its own. It remains to show what peculiar advantage there 
is for us, living in the nineteenth century, in studying ancient 
languages, especially the Greek and Latin. In order to show 
this I must recur to my previous observations on the fact that 
phenomena strike our mind as one whole and entire thing, 
— unanalyzed, undissected. 

I said that if this is the case, the natural consequence would 
be that we had words for specific phenomena, and thus it is, 
in a certain degree, with all languages. We have the words 
bull, ox, cow, heifer, steer, calf; we have buck, roe, fawn ; we 
have to smile, to laugh, to titter, to grin ; we have speaking, 
talking, chattering, murmuring, muttering, screaming, stutter- 
Vol. I. —33 



SH 



ESS A VS. 



ing, stammering, uttering, roaring, barking, lowing, cooing, 
pronouncing, singing, whispering, crowing, etc. All these 
latter words might be analyzed into more general or generic 
terms. Each of them is expressive of producing sounds by 
the mouth in different ways, for different purposes, with differ- 
ent effects, and by differing beings, which different ways, pur- 
poses, effects, and beings might be mentioned; and thus we 
would be enabled to express, by the proper combination of 
many generic terms, the specific idea of speaking, crowing, 
roaring, etc. With what trouble, what infinite tediousness, 
however ! 

We do not only find words, however, which express the 
main characteristics of the various phenomena in one word, 
but also the various relations in which a certain thing may 
stand, or with the expression of which we may be desirous 
of accompanying the idea of certain actions. Patris, terrce, 
express not only the idea of father and earth, but a certain 
relation in which they stand — relations which we have to in- 
dicate by separate words. And here again a difference of the 
division of ideas appears ; for when the Roman wished to in- 
dicate that a certain thing — the subject — acted upon another — 
the object — he indicated this relation by a change in the object 
— e.g., pater amat filium. There are, however, idioms which 
express indeed this relation ; not, however, by a change in the 
object, but in the subject, as some of the South Sea Island 
languages do. They therefore show, not the being acted 
upon, as the Romans did, but the acting upon. They would 
show this relation in the above instance by an inflection of 
pater, not of filius. When the Greek wanted to express the 
idea of being about to strike, and that the individual about to 
strike is of the female sex, he said rucpouffa, in one single word. 
We want a number of words to express it, and only can arrive 
at the idea, in a very circuitous and a very conventional man- 
ner, which the juxtaposition of the words — to be about to 
strike — certainly is. 

It is not necessary here to investigate whether those gram- 
matical forms which indicate one whole phenomenon or rela- 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 515 

tion with one word, whilst we are obliged to arrive at the same 
end by a combination of many words, were originally likewise 
a combination of several words, and grew simply out of their 
fusion. This inquiry, which has occupied many philologists, 
would lead us far from the object of these remarks; nor would 
it be pertinent in this place. 

Of all the known languages, none, as far as I know, contain 
so many words expressive of an entire phenomenon, which 
appears to us, as soon as it strikes our mind, to be analyzed 
into various ideas, and which we express, therefore, by differ- 
ent words, as the languages of the North American Indians. 

In the Mohegan language netdchgan means brother, but 
gegapan, an unmarried brother, as the French use gar g on for 
an unmarried male adult ; or the English bachelor and spinster 
for unmarried male and female adults respectively. The 
younger brother always addressed the elder one by netachgan, 
and him who is younger chesem, as the French have aim and 
cadet for elder and younger among brothers. Thus the younger 
sister called the elder mees, but the elder sister called the younger 
chesem. Tachambkku meant to give something to eat, nuck- 
tegchan meant I have but one child. Below, above, within, etc., 
are in this language as in the other Indian idioms never to be 
found separate, but always as verbs, — i.e., to be above, to be 
below, etc. The same is the case with regard to most adjec- 
tives and substantives. They could not say good, but must 
say I am good, or he is good, etc., the idea of the subject, and, 
consequently, of the pronoun, not having been separated by 
them. There is no verb for to be, but for to be present, to be 
absent, etc. In short, the verb is the main word of the lan- 
guage; it carries everything within its bosom. Nothing is 
imagined without the idea of action or of being, as, indeed, 
nothing can appear to us except in a certain state of being or 
action. They were not without some division of ideas, as 
we have shown that being without this would amount to 
being without language; still, so foreign is the division of 
ideas, of abstraction to the spirit of this language, that though 
a certain sound is regularly added to the idea of a verb, for 



516 ESSAYS. 

instance, that signifying child to that of chastising, still this 
sound does not appear independently to designate the child, 
but is found only fused with some verb or other. Thus sasa- 
metshdha is punish the child, and nucktcgchan I have but one 
child. It can be easily seen how great a difficulty was thus 
thrown into the way of those who endeavored to communicate 
to them things and ideas beyond the circle of their limited 
activity of mind, as, for instance, missionaries ; for every object 
within was designated by a word intimately fused with another; 
all words had a specific meaning, designated, we might almost 
say, a concrete case. Sasametshaha is punish the child, and 
nsasamtshana we punish him. These instances are taken 
from MS. No. 1579, in the library of the Philosophical Society 
in Philadelphia ; it contains a grammar, etc., written by Ioh. 
Jac. Schmick, a German, probably a missionary. Other In- 
dian languages have arrived at a higher degree of division of 
ideas. I refer here to a highly interesting article on the Indian 
Languages of America, in the Appendix to vol. vi. of the 
Encyclopaedia Americana, for which work my friend John 
Pickering, LL.D., of Boston, had the great kindness to write 
it. The article has met with due acknowledgment in France 
and Germany, where a translation of it has been published. 

This way of expressing whole phenomena or entire rela- 
tions of a very modified kind, by one word, has been called 
agglutination? This is not a happy word — be it said with 
sincere reverence for that truly great philologer, equally 
distinguished for acute penetration and lofty, comprehensive 
views — if applied to these forms, for glueing together means 
fastening by glue things which were separated before. This, 
however, is taking a partial view of the matter; those words 
appear to us glued together, because our language des- 
ignates the ideas contained in their words separately: but 



1 On the Variety of the Structure of Human Languages and their Influence 
upon the Intellectual Development of Mankind — an essay of the deepest interest, 
by William von Humboldt, first read in the Berlin Academy, and now reprinted 
in vol. i., 4to, of his philological essays, published by Alexander von Humboldt 
in 1836. 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 517 

they do not appear so to Indians. It is but one idea which 
they express. We are the analyzers, not they the joiners ; they 
would have the same right to call our process of expressing 
one idea, e.g., giving something to eat, by four different words, 
laceration. 

Still the word ought to be retained in comparative philology, 
but in order to designate that process by which expressions 
are formed, such as church-yard, horseman, Loffelgans, port- 
hole, heart-felt, bed-ridden, respublica, horse-radish, roi-citoyen, 
pater-fainilias, nuluapyja, Weingcist, inkstand, peaceful, peuple- 
roi, Obstbanm, womanlike, u-6-Zsos, [--o-oxaiioq, zhayylhov, etc. 
In all these cases two separate words have been joined, in 
order to designate a third object. So it might be said that 
such words as womanhood, dukedom, freedom, were formed by 
agglutination, because hood and dom were originally separate 
words. Whether the two agglutinated words be written in 
one, as horseman, or in two, as church-yard, makes no difference. 
This has only reference to orthography, and is purely conven- 
tional; with regard to language there exists no difference 
whatever. 

Mr. Duponceau, the venerable, learned, and successful phi- 
lologer at Philadelphia, has named those peculiar words by 
which is expressed, what appears to us a complexity of ideas, 
by a far more significant term. He calls them polysynthetic 
words, and languages in which they appear frequently or of 
which they form the main body of words polysynthetic languages. 
The opposite extreme to polysynthetic idioms are languages 
which consist but of single words, without inflexion, or gram- 
matical synthesis, and which contrive to express the different 
relations, which other languages show by inflexions or syn- 
thetic means, merely by the position in which the different 
words are placed, as, for instance, the Chinese language. We 
will call this process of expressing ideas by mere juxtaposition 
of words parathesis, and languages founded upon this process 
parathetic idioms. (The term Parataxis would not do so well, 
as it had already with the ancients a distinct and different 
meaning.) The English language has a strongly parathetic 



518 ESSAYS. 

character, for it expresses very few things or relations by in- 
flection or a change in the root or any other part of the word, 
nor does it allow extensively of the synthetic process. If I 
say: "When I shall go to the garden of my father in law," 
there are twelve words without any inflection whatever, and 
receiving their meaning from their position only. Many lan- 
guages, e.g., the Greek, would have expressed the whole of: 
when I shall go, by one word ; " to the garden" would like- 
wise have required but one word in many languages, and so 
would the whole complex of ideas : of my father in law. — 
Forms like " I'll," " I've," for I will, I have, are produced by 
the polysynthetic or, at least, by a dyosynthetic process. 

In as far as the term first introduced by Mr. Duponceau 
applies to expressions — be they grammatical forms or not — 
which consist of several elements previously separated, it is 
not only correct but fully adequate to the object. It matters 
not whether these elements are ever used as having an inde- 
pendent meaning of their own, separate and for themselves, 
or always in connection with other words, yet always convey- 
ing the same meaning, as, for instance, the pronoun is in some 
languages of the American Indians always found not only 
connected by way of affix or prefix, but fused with the very 
body of the verb. Still the term polysynthesis expresses a 
composition of previously separate parts, and we cannot des- 
ignate by it those words which express that which to others, 
accustomed to analytic languages, appears as a complex of 
ideas, or that which actually is a complex of ideas, that is to 
say, which formed itself originally in the human mind by the 
composition of several ideas. Words, then, which express a 
complex of ideas we will call holophrastic words — words 
which express the whole thing or idea, undivided, unanalyzed. 
I know well that all holophrastic words are, if compared to 
still more comprehensive terms, analytic in their character, 
but in all cases of a similar kind we must content ourselves 
with terms of comparative meaning. If we have seen that 
the Mohegans have a word for giving something to eat, I would 
call it a holophrastic word, though it has an analytical char- 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 519 

acter, if we consider that it only expresses to give something 
to eat, and not who gives to whom, on what conditions, whether 
he who gives what was asked for gave it willingly, or was 
compelled to do so, and whatever else might be connected 
with the idea of giving something to eat. Words as the Latin 
res, the English to beat, the Greek Mr°>, I would call poly- 
phrasia 

Words may have an originally holophrastic character — they 
may be archolophrastic — eg., the Arabic word for noble death ; 
or they may have acquired their holophrastic character by 
composition, and this composition again may have been ef- 
fected by compounding words which had a meaning of their 
own, or by synthetically uniting or fusing elements which had 
no independent meaning of their own with roots which do 
have such a meaning. Or, finally, words may be holophrastic 
by way of inflection. The Sanskrit, Hebrew, Latin, and Greek 
verbs and declensions afford numberless striking instances 
of all these classes. It is sufficient to glance at a single para- 
digma in a grammar of any of these idioms to be struck with 
the complex of ideas, which they have it in their power to 
express by single words, modifying the meaning of the root 
in a variety of ways by adding to it the ideas of time, activity, 
or passiveness, desire (as the Greek optative does), number, 
whether one, many, or two act (as by the Greek and Sanskrit 
dualis), of praying (as the Sanskrit precative does), of ordering 
(by the imperative), of intensity (as by the Hebrew Piel or 
the Sanskrit potentialis), of reciprocity, reflectiveness, of the 
condition of the action itself, whether it has been brought to 
an entire end or not, whether it had come to a conclusion at 
the time we speak or not, whether it has come to a conclusion 
but produces still some effect, whether it relates to the gram- 
matical subject or not, which is the sex of the person to whom 
it relates, or whether it has no sex. There may be farther 
added the idea of locality (as the Sanskrit locative does), of 
instrumentality (as the Sanskrit and Sclavonic casus instmmen- 
talis or the Latin ablative do), of abstraction, of diminution or 
increase, of endearing or the contrary (as the Italian affix accio) f 



520 



ESS A VS. 



of repetition (as the German In added to verbs does), of absence 
or presence (as the Lena Lenape does), etc., etc. What a crowd 
of ideas is not expressed by a single brief word like &mt0/mjv, 
or the word devatabyarcanaparo (deorum-cultui-addictus), which 
I take from an extract of the Sanskrit song of Nala (XII, 18), 
appended to Francis Bopp's Critical Grammar of the Sanscrita 
Language, Berlin, 1834. 

With regard to the meaning of the words, therefore, lan- 
guages have : 

1. A holophrastic character; if they abound in holophrastic 
expressions, or 

2. An analytic character, if analytic words prevail. 

With regard to the means used to arrive at the expression 
of a complex or a series of ideas, languages are : 

1. Synthetic, 

2. Polysynthetic, 

3. Parathetic, or 

4. Inflective. 

Shades exist between each of these classes, as several lan- 
guages make use of several or of all of these means. 

Both holophrastic and analytic words are more convenient 
for one or the other object of speech. And, again, archolo- 
phrastic and compound holophrastic words are each in their 
way preferable for different purposes. I will mention here but 
a few instances. 

Energy of style requires holophrastic words, for energetic 
writing or speaking makes it sometimes necessary that we 
express briefly and promptly a whole complex of ideas, that 
we pour, as it were, a mass of ideas into the mind — the heart 
of the hearer ; at other times, that we individualize with equal 
brevity one particular thing, excluding all others with a dis- 
tinct, sharp line ; that we force the mind of the hearer to one 
precise spot, concentrate it on one single point. Who would 
miss words like clenching, plodding, quivering, clinching? The 
Germans have a word versiegen, used for the gradual diminu- 
tion and final stopping of any liquid which previously flowed 
freely, as the stream of a well. The syllable ver indicates the 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 521 

gradualness of the cessation of flowing, which will and must 
lead to final entire cessation. It will be easily seen with what 
energy this word may be used either directly and positively, 
or metaphorically — whether applied to faculties, powers, elo- 
quence, affections, or the energy of nations ; and that it can 
be used in a thousand cases where our drying up is inadmiss- 
ible. Indeed, this latter word never expresses exactly the 
German vcrsiege?i, though we are obliged to use it as a corre- 
sponding term. Those nations which have distinct words for 
the different kinds of love — e.g., for parental, filial, erotic, un- 
happy, happy, passionate love, and the love of animals for 
their offspring — can speak, sing, or write far more energetically 
and eloquently of love than others who are obliged to use the 
same word for the love of God towards his creatures, of the 
creatures towards God, for erotic love, pining love, for charity, 
etc. 

The poet, of course, wants frequently holophrastic words ; 
but polyphrastic terms are equally necessary at other times ; 
for as it is sometimes hfghly poetic to shoot the word like an 
arrow to one single point with unerring aim, poetry requires, 
at other times, to keep, if I may use the expression, the mind 
pending between a number of thoughts, to allude and indicate 
instead of pointing and fixing, to throw with one word a vast 
association of ideas into the mind of the hearer, and let it 
work there for itself. 

When we feel the want of being eloquent, the desire to 
speak with a degree of energy, yet on a subject of a decided 
or somewhat philosophical character, compound holophrastic 
words will be found peculiarly convenient, for they bring to 
our mind an assemblage of ideas with rapidity and yet allow 
us to view it as complex, without which the philosophical 
character would vanish. Take a word like 6-o/^c, or the 
German Rechlsfahigheit, the capability of being a person with 
legal privileges and obligations. 

The more our speech assumes the character of discussion, 
the more philosophical it is — the more we stand in want of 
generic terms, of analytic words ; yet here again it is neces- 



522 ESSAYS. 

sary that we may distinctly particularize the various genera, 
in other words, that we have an abundance of words, The 
French is a language of a decidedly analytic and generic 
character, still it is a very inconvenient means for metaphysical 
discussions; because it is a language which has not a very 
abundant treasure of words at its disposal. 

A language must be rich in order to be energetic as well 
as delicate ; if it be not, words which signify specific things 
or ideas must be used to express more general ideas ; hence 
they lose the power of expressing quite specific objects or 
delicate shades. The French is delicate with regard to social 
intercourse ; but in this particular it is a very rich language, 
far more so than English or German. 

Hence the great beauty of languages which have not thrown 
away the privilege of forming and compounding, with the 
commencement of their written literature, and which have at 
no period considered themselves as finished, but have at all 
times continued to act as an organic, living thing, such as the 
German or Greek. 

Elegance of language requires likewise analytic words, for 
it is the character of elegance not to be too positive or direct, 
to use, therefore, the general instead of the particular, the 
generic instead of the specific, the distant instead of the near, 
the circuitous instead of the direct (as we may say Mrs. B. 
instead of your wife, though Mr. B. may stand before us, and 
as politeness has introduced in many languages the third 
person, as if some one absent were spoken of instead of direct 
address). The French use la glace (the substance, the general) 
for miroir (the specific). Frequently it is elegant to use the 
general instead of the specific, because it shows a certain skill 
of generalizing something recherche; but for this reason, also, 
it becomes so easily affected and ridiculous. Suppose a man 
were to say : an individual of the feline species, instead of a 
cat ; it would be ridiculous. Still, modern affectation has 
introduced many circuitous expressions of equal absurdity, 
which, nevertheless, are now quite common. 

Delicacy, likewise, requires generic terms, that we may 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 523 

merely allude to unpleasant or offensive subjects, when obliged 
to touch upon, instead of directly pronouncing them. " During 
our late misunderstandings" would be more delicate if used 
by an American writing to an Englishman, than " During our 
late war with you," and circumstances might exist which 
would render a delicate expression in this case preferable to 
the positive. 

There is also a peculiar energy in some cases, when we 
suddenly elevate ourselves from the specific to the generic or 
the most general possible ; for instance, when the poet, having 
spoken of a vessel, so that we know what he means, suddenly 
says, " and now the mighty thing," etc. 

These observations, to which many others might be added, 
show that a language is the more complete the more abun- 
dantly it is supplied and may, at pleasure, continue to supply 
itself both with holophrastic and analytic words, and the more 
archolophrastic and synthetic or inflective holophrastic words 
it possesses, that it may supply the continual wants of the 
mind to designate newly divided shades, new symplectic ideas, 
newly discovered things or newly produced notions. There 
exists, however, no language which, being otherwise inti- 
mately connected with our civilization, can at all be compared 
in perfection — applying this term to languages in the sense in 
which I have explained it — to the Greek, which to all the enu- 
merated philosophic perfections unites that of great euphony 
and rhythm. 

The Greek language, 1, possesses an abounding treasure of 
words, so that it can designate with ease generic as well as 
specific ideas, and is able to express the most delicate shades 
or the minutest connecting links between more definite or 
general ideas. 2. Its vocabulary contains a vast number both 
of holophrastic and sharply discriminating, analytic words. 
3. The Greek has a great many archolophrastic, and hence 
most energetic expressions ; it contains, 4, likewise an aston- 
ishing abundance of synthetico-holophrastic words, which 
afford a variety, unequalled in any other language, of discrimi- 
nating terms for all philosophic inquiries, generalizing as well 



524 ESSAYS. 

as analyzing the processes of the mind, and of peculiar con- 
venience for all abstract purposes. 5. It is rich in polyphrastic 
terms. 6. Its faculty of compounding was so great that it 
rendered the idiom a pliable, fusible, and malleable material in 
the hands of any reflecting man, to whatever point he directed 
his researches or inquiries, or to whatever bold combinations 
or daring allusions the loftiest genius elevated itself. 7. The 
faculty of compounding extended not only to words, but to a 
great number of elements, which, together with the abundance 
of entire words, rendered it a peculiarly descriptive tongue, 
both with regard to natural phenomena and minute technical 
and mechanical descriptions. 8. The Greek has an extraordi- 
nary inflective character, which makes it concise, clear, defi- 
nite, and logical, while it possesses at the same time such a 
wonderful abundance of particles, far greater even than modern 
European idioms, though they are not inflective, that there 
are few imaginable relations and conditions which cannot be 
expressed perspicuously by this admirable idiom, perhaps 
the most wonderful of all the creations of the human mind. 
9. Though it is with regard to the composition of words of a 
decidedly synthetic and not unfrequently polysynthetic char- 
acter, yet it does not disdain agglutination, and though it has, 
as to the construction of periods, a decidedly syntactic char- 
acter, it does not disdain parathesis, and thus increases still 
more its manifold powers of expression, so that this idiom 
accompanies the mind to the minutest ramifications of reason- 
ing like an ever-ready assistant. 10. As the Greek is thus 
beautiful and perfect with regard to its structure, its powers, 
and its pliability, it is not less so as to the exterior, and 
euphony forms one of its greatest ornaments. 11. It was 
cultivated and developed under circumstances the happiest 
imaginable for fixing the meaning of words and expanding 
the idiom itself as the element in which the human mind has 
to manifest itself, and by a race endowed with eminently acute 
and discriminating faculties, a most peculiar sensitiveness for 
the beautiful and the harmonious, and gifted with the loftiest 
genius — a race which, during the short space of two centuries, 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 525 

ran through all the fine arts, nearly all systems of philosophy, 
tried almost all forms of government, and fought its way 
through many combinations of political systems, and elevated 
itself to an admirable degree of perfection in all branches of 
poetry and eloquence, so that this very race has become the 
master race of civilized mankind in most branches, and has 
laid the foundation even of our more mechanic civilization ; 
for darkness prevailed so long as never-ceasing wars and con- 
quests bade history to be silent on this race, until the conquest 
of Constantinople scattered the degenerate sons of Greece over 
Western Europe and the light of knowledge was rekindled 
even by the mere remnants of former Greek civilization. So 
perfect an idiom proved this language that when Christianity 
changed the spirit of antiquity into something entirely dif- 
ferent, and new systems necessarily arose, new views were to 
be expressed, and a new truth was to be proclaimed, even then 
this idiom was found to be a ready element in which the 
human mind could cast and form whatever it felt urged to 
express. 

I trust that the objection will not be made that all I have 
said of the Greek being granted, it is, nevertheless, not our 
language, nor can we make it so. Why, then, shall we ac- 
quire an idiom which we cannot use as the means of commu- 
nication, however preferable it might be in itself to our own 
idioms? I have shown how great the advantage is which our 
mind derives from the attentive study of a foreign idiom un- 
connected with the use we may make of this language as a 
means of communication ; and I have likewise shown, I hope, 
why these advantages are to be derived from this study. If 
we apply what I said of the study of foreign idioms in general 
to this most perfect language, which, as stated, has been de- 
veloped under a most propitious combination of circumstances 
by some of the greatest minds on record, and lies before us 
deposited in a vast, variegated, and rich literature, we shall 
find that of all foreign languages the Greek is by far the most 
superior in order to obtain these advantages for the develop- 
ment of our mind ; the more so as it is a language of antiquity 



526 



ESS A YS. 



— a period when different views prevailed, different principles 
were maintained ; at which, therefore, the division of ideas was 
in many cases entirely different. 

And this last observation leads me to make a remark on the 
different style of the writings of the ancients and ourselves. 
For reasons which it is impossible to develop here, but which 
are intimately connected with the whole spirit of antiquity and 
the mighty change produced by Christianity, elevating as it 
did the value of the individual, the style of the ancients is 
characteristically different from the style of modern nations. 
We can learn also in this particular much from the ancients 
without giving up in the least the advantages which we derive 
from modern civilization. It is but showing ourselves grate- 
ful to the great dispenser of nations if we duly appreciate what 
former generations gained and conquered, often at a dear rate, 
and make it a means of farther promotion of intellectual 
advancement. 

Nothing, probably, characterizes the difference of the style 
of the classics and the moderns so strikingly as the fact that 
the ancients keep the object to be described or discussed 
strictly in view; the moderns make the subject who describes 
play a prominent part. The ancients describe the beautiful, 
we beautifully ; they the horrid, we fearfully ; they the grace- 
ful, we gracefully ; they the fact, we the impression of the 
fact; they the thing, we the feeling caused by the thing; they 
discriminate, we try to be witty. Hence, among other things, 
the great advantage which individuals endowed with indepen- 
dent judgment have at all times derived from a careful study 
of the classics, for imitation is worth nothing; but patiently 
and attentively learning from master-minds is not slavish 
imitation or copying. 

It has been often said, and it may be allowed with an appear- 
ance of plausibility if we glance only at the subject, " Why 
shall we study the ancients? whom did they study?" " Did 
the Greeks not develop their civilization from out themselves?" 
" What foreign Homer did the Athenian school-boy study ?" 
First, this objection would apply to the Greeks only, for Ro- 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 



527 



man literature is very decidedly founded upon the Greek ; so 
was Roman science. With regard to the Greeks themselves 
I have only to say, if it was the plan of the great ruler to lead, 
by a combination of a thousand different circumstances, geo- 
graphical, chronologic, religious, and political, a tribe to a high 
degree of civilization without foreign influence except in the 
first stages of its history, what right have we to murmur against 
his plan, or to throw aside the whole amount of this civilization 
because we have not acquired it? Surely it is possible that a 
nation may acquire a beautiful language without the influence 
of foreign literature — the very Greeks prove it ; but are those 
who start the objection aware of the fact how dearly bought 
Greek civilization was ? Their eloquence could not have risen 
to so eminent a degree had not Greece fought through all 
those many political struggles, nor without their peculiar lib- 
erty, which made the state everything and almost disowned 
individual right; it was, if I may use a paradox, the tyranny 
of liberty. Will they deny that the Greeks are, and ought to 
be, our teachers in sculpture and architecture? But could 
either have risen to so high a perfection without their religion 
— a religion which ascribed human shapes to the gods, and 
thus led to an idealization of this form ? In history there is 
no such thing as living over old periods ; a dream cannot be 
dreamt twice, and what is broken may be glued, but cannot 
form one whole again. It is folly to attempt to force back the 
great current of time, but it is wisdom to profit by what others 
have produced without paying the same high price for it. The 
Greek beautiful plastic style is closely connected with their 
whole view of life, which acknowledged in its fullest extent 
reality, the life that is, and nothing beyond it. Dreary indeed 
was their view of Hades — despondingly so. Who can read 
the visit of Ulysses to the lower regions without chilling sad- 
ness ? But since such is the fact, since this view has produced 
so beautiful and perfect a style, is it not our bounden duty to 
profit by it ? If a man were to squander his whole fortune in 
cultivating a garden, to the neglect of many other important 
subjects, shall his neighbor, who cultivates likewise his gar- 



528 



ESS A VS. 



den, but is wiser and does not ruin his fortune by it, decline 
to profit by the discoveries which the first may have made 
and may have been able to make only because he used up his 
whole fortune for horticulture ? What should become of 
mankind if one generation is not to profit by the previous 
ones ? It would never elevate itself above barbarity. 

There is another reason, however, why we ought to study 
the classics, though the Greeks studied no foreign authors, 
founded in the character of our languages and that ancient 
idiom itself. Greek and Latin, whatever their origin may be, 
developed themselves as original languages — i.e., they acquired 
their settled forms and grammar and the meaning of the words 
along with the progress of the respective nations. The lan- 
guages of Western Europe, however, were formed by little 
civilized nations of the fragments of those idioms, mutilated, 
defaced fragments, so that all the beauties which are peculiar 
to original languages are necessarily excluded from these de- 
rivative and mixed idioms. They have not the capacity of 
formation (Bildsamkeit, in German) within them in any degree 
comparable to that of the classic languages. I shall say a few 
more. words on this subject. 

The Sanskrit is, I am well aware, far more perfect in its 
original structure and philosophic spirit than the Greek. Per- 
fect regularity pervades the whole system of this wonderful 
and surprising idiom. With a given number of roots and 
numerous classes of affixes, prefixes, and other means of for- 
mation or change, and a richly-endowed declension and verb, 
it can express, compound, approximate, modify, where other 
idioms have to be silent, and exhibits to us a fabric which still 
more shows the senselessness of all those attempts at invent- 
ing a general language or pantagraphy, the great desideratum 
of small minds; for though Leibnitz may have started the 
idea, he soon gave it up, and we have now acquired a different 
view of the essence of language than that it is a thing arbi- 
trarily invented, settled by conventional agreement, and might, 
therefore, be as well invented by one as by many. There was 
a time when people were very ready with inventions — invent- 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 



529 



ing constitutions, inventing languages, inventing codes, in- 
venting religions ! 

Reasons, however, exist why the Sanskrit cannot compete 
with the Greek in our systems of education. The Greek 
unites the two great advantages that it belongs to early times, 
when languages had yet a productive power, which we miss 
in the later ones, and that it is far later than the earliest Asi- 
atic languages, and partakes, therefore, of the analytic char- 
acter of later idioms. The literature of the Sanskrit, moreover, 
is chronologically too far removed from us; our civilization is 
not directly connected with that of the ancient Hindoos ; their 
ideas moved in too different a sphere to lend to the study of 
Sanskrit that general advantage which we derive from the 
Greek, however interesting that venerable idiom once spoken 
on the shores of the Ganges may be to the philologist and the 
philosopher of the human mind by profession. In the Greek 
the student will find a new logic, a new division of ideas, nay, 
entirely new ideas with the new words which designate them, 
without being led into regions too distant. 

What I have said of the Greek applies in a great measure 
to the Latin language and literature. I state it as a fact in 
which I firmly believe, having seen various confirmations of 
it, that it is impossible for any individual in modern times to 
read attentively and in a way by which he reads the work, not 
the words, a book like Caesar's War with the Gauls, without 
deriving a decided benefit from it for his thoughts and his 
mode of expression. 

The study of the Latin and Greek, however, becomes still 
more important for all whose native tongue is a language with 
little of a grammar, and which relies mainly on parathesis, as 
the modern idioms of Western Europe do. The reason why 
this is the case is simply, as I have stated already, because 
these languages rose out of a highly-cultivated language, the 
Latin, spoken, with admixtures from others, by barbarous tribes, 
which could not enter into. the inflective and syntactic nice- 
ties, just as children or our negroes to the present day drop 
nearly everything which indicates anything more than the 
Vol. I.— 34 



530 



ESS A YS. 



bare thing. No plural, no tense, no subjunctive, no nicety of 
any relation is generally expressed by them. Master-minds, 
as well as a highly-improved state of society, raised, at a later 
period, these jargons, and some, as the English, the Italian, 
etc., to an admirable degree of perfection; still they could not 
change their original character. A grammar could not be 
invented where there was none originally. The consequence 
is that those whose vernacular tongue is one of these modern 
idioms never have their mind directed to a variety of relations 
in which certain ideas expressed in a period stand to each 
other, if they do not learn a language with a fully-developed 
grammar, such as the Latin. As, however, some relations of 
the kind alluded to are expressed in these languages, and not 
the same by all, an acquaintance with the Latin or Greek will 
be always found of great service, even for the study of these 
modern languages. The mind of the student has been initi- 
ated into grammatic relations. I speak here from experience. 
This advantage is still more perceptible when a modern lan- 
guage, such as the German, is studied. I have invariably 
found that individuals acquainted with Latin derive the great- 
est benefit from this knowledge in studying German, while it 
is sometimes very difficult to make a student clearly under- 
stand so simple a relation as that of the accusative governed 
by a verb, if he know nothing but English, for instance. 

My previous remarks will show what advantage is to be 
derived from the study of the classic languages, and how it 
happens that their study is recommended to us when the 
nations who spoke them have long left the stage of human 
events. It is not said that their study is absolutely necessary 
for every individual, though I do believe that it is absolutely 
necessary for all modern nations, if they are resolved to ac- 
quire the greatest possible degree of civilization and intel- 
lectual elevation. 

From the fact that Greek is far more perfect than Latin, and 
Greek literature far richer and more elevated than the Roman, 
the one, moreover, being indigenous, the other in many points 
not, it would appear that Greek ought to be studied more than 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 



531 



Latin. This would be the fact did not other circumstances 
change the matter. Greek is more difficult, and requires, con- 
sequently, more time; and the Latin deserves, moreover, to be 
more generally studied, because it is the simplest key to all the 
Romanic languages. Surely, if Italian, French, Spanish, and 
Portuguese can be learned easily, so as to enable the student to 
read these languages, merely by learning Latin, in early life ; 
and if, by a knowledge of Latin, we can enter at once so deeply 
into their spirit, it would be very strange if we were to throw 
away the very key to them. Latin besides has penetrated so 
many branches and sciences, from its having once been the 
language of universal communication and of an undivided 
church, that we can hardly get on in any scientific pursuit 
without some knowledge of it. And why not learn it ? Is it 
too difficult ? If properly taught, not. 

Our country may be called decidedly Protestant, and it may 
be easily conjectured what Protestantism, founded upon the 
Bible, soon must become without a thorough knowledge of 
the languages (the Greek and, of course, Hebrew, the study 
of which will be found much easier by a student well trained 
by the study of ancient languages in general) — being kept 
alive among its professional teachers, when all inquiry, criti- 
cism, and conjecture is founded upon a translation, and a trans- 
lation, too, from ancient languages into a modern, the spirit 
of which, therefore, is very different and the translation con- 
sequently difficult, a translation, moreover, made at a period 
since which the grammatical, historical, and antiquarian knowl- 
edge of the Scriptures have been infinitely extended. How 
many unfortunate misconceptions of religiously disposed peo- 
ple were founded upon a misconception of the Bible, to which 
the translation alone could have led ! 

Those who assail the study of the classic languages fre- 
quently do it because, say they, modern languages are more 
useful ! I agree with them that the European family forms in 
our own times a community so closely connected that every 
individual of a liberal education ought to know at least two 
modern languages besides his own. It is easily acquired; 



532 ESSAYS. 

but let the assailants rest assured that there is no better 
means to obtain this object than the instruction in the classic 
languages. 

I acknowledge that the importance of Greek and Latin is 
very different now from what it was when sciences revived. 
Then nearly all that our race had produced in literature was 
deposited in those languages; now modern literatures of great 
excellence exist, and numerous new sciences have sprung up, 
some of which must be taught in schools. Important as 
Greek and Latin is, I claim its study not for all ; it cannot be, 
nor is it necessary ; but do not strike it from the list of those 
studies which are generally pursued under the appellation of a 
liberal education. I hope I may safely refer to my Constitu- 
tion and Plan of Education for Girard College to prove how 
far I am from a pedantic love of the classic idioms, or that I 
consider their study indispensable for all, when many things 
must be learned that are still more important to some. 

If the study of the classic languages is frequently or gener- 
ally pursued, in the United States, in an unprofitable way, if 
it is especially to be deplored that so little attention is paid to 
the subject of antiquities, which afford, after all, the true picture 
of antiquity, but which cannot be properly understood with- 
out a knowledge of the respective languages, and without 
which again it is vain to pretend the expounding of a classic 
author, let us correct the deficiencies, but let us not cut off 
this whole branch of education, from a want, perhaps, of a 
thorough understanding of what the study of language really 
effects. 

Those who object to the study of the ancient languages on 
the score of morality I will only remind of the fact, that all 
the reformers were good scholars, some distinguished ones, 
and all and every one insisted upon the study of the classics 
as a branch of general education, and that philology has been 
most effectually cultivated in modern times by Protestant na- 
tions. Luther insisted most urgently on the study of Greek 
in schools, and his words on languages in general are beautiful. 
The mere fact that the ancient idioms have been studied for 



ON THE STUDY OF FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 533 

so many centuries, have always been the more studied the 
more refined nations became, have accompanied the European 
race into other parts of the world, and have been cultivated 
and loved by so many master-minds, many of them in practical 
life, as Fox and Canning, ought to make us consider the mat- 
ter well. Facts of such magnitude are not arbitrarily pro- 
duced. There is a power of victory within ancient literature 
which it must retain forever. We might as well say: let us have 
something else than gold and silver for our common currency, 
as deprive the civilized world of the classics. 

What I have said can of course not convince ; how could I 
prove that the Greek language really possesses all the excel- 
lencies which I have endeavored to indicate ? The fact can 
be known only from a study of the language itself. But my 
remarks will at least suffice to show that the advocates of the 
study of Greek and Latin may rest their reasons on points 
which many of those who object to it never suspected, and 
which were never touched upon in their attacks. On what- 
ever side the truth may lie, certain it is, that the question is 
to be tested and decided on far different grounds than the 
assailants of this branch seem to think of. Their real value 
in education, the true advantage of foreign languages in the 
formation of young minds, is not to be judged of by the in- 
quiry into the direct and immediate practical use to which the 
one or the other idiom may be conducive. Moral and intel- 
lectual expansion is the true and essential object of all educa- 
tion; those so-called practical subjects in education have 
generally turned out of little use in practical life. Strengthen 
the mind, clear the intellect, and give it sound knowledge in 
the general branches — develop it philologically, never mind 
by what specific idiom; prepare it for clear and lofty historical 
views, never mind whether the history of every nation be 
known; imbue it with a true spirit for natural history, no 
matter whether the names of all specimens be known, etc. ; 
give at the same time that preparatory knowledge without 
which neither these branches nor many subjects in after-life 
can be understood, such as geography (though differently pur- 






9- 



534 ESSAYS. 3 ^^ 

sued from what it is almost universally taught in our country), 
and you will prepare the student most practically for life. 

My letter extends far beyond the limits which, when I 
began, I thought it would reach ; I hasten, therefore, to con- 
clude it. 

I am very respectfully and faithfully, 

Your obedient servant, 

Francis Lieber. 
South Carolina College, February, 1837. 



END OF VOLUME I. 



